House's Christmas Carol
by Ravenclaw992
Summary: House isn't one to appreciate Xmas. When Cameron falls ill before Xmas and House refuses to take her case, his dreams reveal an experience close to a Christmas Carol. Will House be able to change his mind about Cameron's case before it's too late? R&R!
1. Cameron's Black Christmas

Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D. or the ideas of "A Christmas Carol". Someone does own House M.D., but it isn't me. Any ideas that are relevant to the story of "A Christmas Carol" belong to the author, Charles Dickens and the author only. NOT ME!! If I did, I would be cheering by now. 

A/N: I was bored when I came up with this story. I had an idea to place House into a kind of "Christmas Carol" story. Especially because House is often sarcastic, cold, clinical, and miserable, but we love him all the same! So, I put this story together and I am planning to put some twists into it. I hope all readers enjoy and take the time to R&R! Any reviews would be appreciated and would help my story! (= Enjoy!

Chapter One: Cameron's Black Christmas

It wasn't even eight in the morning when the bedroom door burst open and slammed against the wall with a loud bang. Soft footsteps moved towards the large bed that was inhabited by one person. There was an alarm clock on the bedside table that was slowly ticking away and next to it was a small bottle of pills. The curtains refused to let in any light, even though a cold but beautiful layer of white snow was currently covering every inch and surface of the earth. It was the day before Christmas and the only person that didn't feel the need to celebrate was the one who was sleeping heavily on the large bed.

House covered his head with his pillow as the sudden cacophony of noise erupted in his bedroom. A low moan escaped from beneath the pillow and the figure in the room approached the bed with irritation and confidence. It was the figure of Cameron that had awakened House from his sleep, and he wasn't all that pleased to see her, especially since it was his day off. Still, Cameron refused to let him go that quickly.

"Get up, House. Now!" She tried to pull back the heavy blanket off of House, but he kept a firm grip on it. There was a low mumbling coming from beneath the pillow again, but this time Cameron couldn't hear him that well. "What?" House suddenly jerked up as if his body just experienced spasms and he glared at her.

"Is it really necessary for you to bother me at—"House craned his neck to look at the clock on the bedside table and he scowled before going on. "—eight in the morning? Haven't you ever heard of the goodness of Christmas, woman?" House buried his head into the pillow again and Cameron sighed openly. She tossed a piece of her blonde hair over her shoulder and strode over to the side of the bed.

"You don't appreciate Christmas remember? Cuddy called an hour ago and you didn't answer her. So she sent me instead. Now, get up!" Cameron attempted to pry the soft pillow from House's grip, but he wasn't giving up. Finally, Cameron heaved the pillow with all her strength and managed to get it out of House's grip. House sat up quickly and shot Cameron a skeptical look.

"You know, it is my day off. That means that my Christmas consists of sleeping in…I don't know…holy peace? I was wondering how you got in here. What case is so important that you have to wake me up?" House reached for the bottle of pills on his table, but Cameron swiped them off the table before he could get his hands on them. He sent her another annoyed look before sighing and getting to his feet. Cameron nodded encouragingly before House turned back to him with suspicion in his eyes. "So what case is this anyway? Or are you just here for an early Christmas present?" Cameron rolled her eyes and tried to hide a small smile.

"No, there is a case. Cuddy wasn't all that surprised when you didn't answer. She figured you wouldn't be that eager to go into the hospital today, either." Cameron slowly settled herself on the mattress while House continued to study her.

"Whose case is it? Details sometime today?" Cameron closed her eyes and looked as if she were in pain for a minute. Without opening her eyes, she tried to speak.

"Well…" All of a sudden, Cameron's eyes shot open and she began to breathe heavily. House moved in front of her and studied her more closely. Cameron placed her hand over her chest and went on taking in gasps of air.

"Why are you breathing so heavily?" Cameron shook her head rapidly before her eyes widened, showing the whole of her eyes. Her arms dropped limply to her sides—causing the bottle of pills to crash to the floor and make pills spill everywhere—and her mouth closed firmly, as if she were holding back something she was about to choke up. House began to move off to her side.

"You know what; I'm going to move this way now." Cameron jerked her head up questioningly and croaked out one word.

"Why?" House tilted his head at her and didn't immediately answer her. When he did, his voice was absent of concern, but it held a hint of amusement.

"Because you're about to throw up." Cameron gave him a look of disbelief before throwing her head forward, a spew of scarlet fluid flying from her mouth. It was blood, and it had landed all over the wooden floor and the pillow that Cameron had recently tugged away from House. He moved closer to her as she fell onto the floor, extending a hand in his direction. She began choking a bit as she struggled to say his name and House's eyes filled with even more suspicion.

"Looks like you do have a case. What a merry Christmas this will be, hmmm?"

* * *

"I don't care. You should know that by now." Cuddy dropped her head into her hands as House exclaimed out at her. She had been arguing with him for almost fifteen minutes as she tried to insist that he take Cameron's case. She was so sure that he would; it was one of his old team members after all and the case definitely was something. Now, she picked her head up again and stared at him while she waited. She knew he would say more than this. "Besides, this isn't my case and it's my day off. Or do you just happen to be hung-over and _somehow_ it slipped your mind?" Cuddy tossed House an incredulous look before standing.

"I could make this your case, House. _You_ should know _that_ by now." House rolled his eyes dramatically and somewhat limped over to her desk. He began toying with an item on her desk, but she ignored it. He avoided looking at her, so she knew he was thinking about something.

"I don't want you to make this my case. Yeah, it's interesting. So are a bunch of other cases in this hospital that do not concern me whatsoever. Give the case to someone else." Cuddy continued to stare at him with her firm gaze as he finished his ranting. She wasn't giving in, but neither was he. Why was he so against taking the case anyway? Didn't it concern him a little that Cameron was now lying in a hospital bed the day before Christmas? She supposed not so much.

"House, please take the case. That way we know Cameron won't be the unfortunate kind and die before that suspicious holiday that you seem to hate so much." Cuddy retreated to her desk as House turned and headed for the door. Cuddy could only stand there as he reached for the doorknob, but he stopped and half turned toward her again.

"Cameron won't die. But I'm not taking her case just yet." House exited Cuddy's office, leaving her looking shocked and perhaps a bit amazed. House immediately started for the hospital pharmacy; he needed more Vicodin since he was already running out and it didn't help that he didn't have much time to clean the pills that had scattered over his bedroom floor. The nurse—it was a female this time—moved towards him as she waited for his request, but bit off looking offended when he abruptly asked for what he wanted.

"Vicodin. I want my Vicodin now. Let's go." The nurse seemed ready to aim darts from her eyes at that instant, but she reluctantly turned and began searching for his medicine. A familiar voice, one that House didn't really want to hear right then, came from behind him.

"You know, it is supposedly very bad if you act that rude before Christmas. Then again, you're not one to hold a big party for it, House." Grabbing the pills out of the nurse's hand—and earning a scowl from his sudden actions—House turned to meet the concerned eyes of Wilson. He looked as if he hadn't gotten sleep in a while. House ignored him and moved past him, but Wilson only followed closely behind. "I heard about Cameron. You are taking her case, aren't you?" House stopped and sighed before looking back at Wilson.

"No, I'm not taking her case. There's no reason for it, just because she used to work for me. I am going home and spending this…holiday…in the most pleasant way I know how. Sleeping without anyone annoying me." Wilson continued behind House and didn't seem ready to give up the conversation. "What's the matter? Cancer patients not doing it for you anymore?" Wilson laughed softly behind him and attempted to move in front of House. He held up his cane to Wilson's face. "Be careful. I have a cane and I know very well how to use it." Wilson kept laughing in amusement at House's attempt to get rid of him.

"You shouldn't be so against Christmas. It's not as bad as you think it is. Haven't you ever read "A Christmas Carol", House?" House gave Wilson a skeptical look before pretending ignorance.

"That's the story that tells you to be good and appreciate Christmas so you won't go to hell, right? Well for me Christmas _is_ hell. Move." Wilson stepped aside, but he kept up with House's pace. It technically wasn't that hard. House popped a few pills into his mouth before giving Wilson another sharp gaze.

"Yes, that is the story, House. Though I have realized that appreciating Christmas does not entirely matter to you, especially since your idea of hell is just so…entertaining and colorful. You're not interested in Christmas even a little?" House began walking again and his voice was unswervingly confident as he answered Wilson.

"Nope. And I don't care for that story either. As long as all the ghosts keep away from me, I'll be perfectly fine. That includes your ex-girlfriend by the way. It goes without saying that she'd keep me away from the idea of hell any day." Wilson began to respond to House's words, but he stopped and appeared stunned.

"What? You actually think Amber is as bad as the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come?" House looked thoughtful for a moment before answering.

"Oh, definitely. Maybe even worse. As long as she doesn't visit me before Christmas, then I won't have any reason to worry, right?" Wilson still looked as if he didn't know what to say at this point.

"I must say I am somewhat insulted by that statement, House." Reaching the entrance door, House turned back to Wilson and gave him the 'that's-the-most-obvious-thing-in-the-world' look.

"You should be insulted. She wasn't exactly a Charlie's Angel, was she? Now, I am leaving and I am _praying_ on this _holy night_—as you people like to call it—that no one else bothers me about anything Christmas." Wilson had only one thing left to say. He sighed before speaking slowly.

"House, sometimes you are…the Scrooge of all Scrooges." With that, Wilson walked away, leaving House to wonder over his words. House shrugged and didn't think more about it. How little did he know that Wilson's words jut might have a little truth to them.


	2. House's Dream

Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D. or the ideas of "A Christmas Carol". Someone does own these stories/ideas, but that person isn't me…obviously. So, I own nothing while writing this story.

A/N: Time for the next chapter!! Here it is and I hope any readers keep reading no matter what! I also hope that the readers take the time to R&R since it definitely helps my story and all reviews are greatly appreciated. (= Enjoy the next chapter!

**Music that inspired this chapter: "Silent Lucidity" by Queensryche, "Beautiful Lie" by 30 Seconds To Mars, and "How To Save A Life" by the Fray! (=**

Chapter Two: House's Dream

House was quietly lying on his bed, thinking about Cameron's case and not being able to fall asleep. He didn't know why the thought of her case bothered him so much. He had refused to take her case and it had shocked Cuddy more than anything else he had done before. In his mind, it was complicated. If he took her case, he would be able to help her. He was sure he could figure the answer out as he always did, but it also meant a risk of showing real feelings that he would rather avoid and deny. If he had taken her case, he would have risked showing those feelings to Cameron, and he wasn't sure he was ready to do that again. She would see through him; he was sure of it. Still, was avoiding those feelings worth her suffering if he didn't take the case? House didn't know, and he wasn't certain about which choice to make. It was complicated.

House rolled over onto his side and stared at the clock. It was almost one in the morning and all he could do was wonder over her case. His eyes moved to the remaining spots of blood on his floor and he pictured again how she had looked earlier that day. Then, his eyes shifted to the pills that were still scattered across his floor. Some of the white pills were crushed and bits of them were mixing into the hardwood floor. House refused to get up and tidy the problems in his room. Instead, he rolled over again to stare at the ceiling. There were no noises around him, except for his slow breathing. Those thoughts wouldn't escape his head and it was going to drive him crazy, he was sure. The other team members would help with Cameron's case, especially Foreman. House imagined Cuddy giving Foreman control over the case, as she would usually do. He thought of Foreman and Chase trying to bounce ideas off of each other in House's office. They would work on it and her case would eventually turn out right. Right?

"Nothing bad is going to happen. Nothing is going to happen." House whispered these words to himself, willing them to be true. He repeated the words again and again as he closed his eyes and, without any more thoughts on Cameron's case, he fell into an uneasy sleep where strange dreams waited for him.

* * *

The hospital was so quiet tonight, and there wasn't anyone around at all. House opened his eyes and looked around the empty hallway that he was now standing in. Why was he back at the hospital? He was sure this had to be a dream, only a dream that meant little to him. Looking around, he became more confident that this was just a dream.

There was no one else in the hallway. No nurses, patients, doctors, or any sign of living creatures anywhere. There was no one there except House. It was almost dead silent in the hallway and House was alone. He continued to look around and he considered calling out for someone, anyone. What was the point of this dream if there wasn't anyone there but House? Theories worked their way through House's head as he attempted to come up with an acceptable explanation. His train of thought was interrupted by a sudden soft whispering somewhere in the hallway. House couldn't make out what was being said; the words were too quiet and distant. Then, the words became louder and continued to get louder until House heard an unbearable mixture that seemed to be made up of ten thousand people speaking at once. It became a constant hum and he could only determine what a few of the sentences were saying.

_"I could make it your case…House...you are the Scrooges of all Scrooges…why are you breathing so heavily…House…Scrooges of all Scrooges…"_

The words kept coming and they blended into one another until House only heard a single, obnoxious noise surrounding his ears. The noise became increasingly loud until he placed his hands over his ears, hoping the sound was stop sometime soon. With one more mention of his name, the noises stopped and more silence reached his ears. House slowly put his hands down and realized that the hallway, while it now lacked the unnerving noises, was not completely silent. He heard a small whimpering coming from one of the rooms to his right and he approached the hospital room with caution. The door was already open and more hopeless whimpering came from the room. House entered the hospital room and looked around before he realized that the only weird thing was the vast amount of blood on the bed. There was nothing else there, no one that could be causing the whimpering. Feeling an expression of confusion cross his face, House kept staring into the room as if something would appear instantly.

"House." He turned with great speed and met the eyes of someone he really didn't want to see at that moment. It was Cameron who stood in front of him, gazing at him with interest and a look that showed the majority of her discomfort. House studied her before responding. She looked much better before she had fallen ill; clearly, this was how she now looked in the hospital. Her hair was matted down and distasteful, not at all like the light, attractive hair that she often showed off. Her eyes were hurt and lacked their usual warmth. Her skin was pallid and there was no glow to her skin at all. In truth, she looked weak, but here she was staring at him and waiting.

"Why are you here? I know this is a dream, so you're not exactly real, are you?" Cameron shook her head and sighed. With a faint smile on her lips, she moved closer to House. She opened her mouth to speak, and House noticed that her voice took on a different quality, one that was almost angelic or ethereal.

"I am here, House. True, this is something of a dream. I can see you still do not understand. There is something you must do in this dream, perhaps something to figure out. I know you're good at that, House." He didn't respond to Cameron's words. When he gave her no answer, Cameron continued. "It's actually simple. You need to change your actions House. Don't you see that your actions are causing harm to others already? If you decide not to change your decision, I fear there is little chance to save her." House took her words in, but could not resist asking the main question.

"Who?" Cameron rolled her eyes at House and pointed to something behind House. Already sure of what he was going to see, he turned around to the previously empty hospital room, only to be surprised by a new figure. The figure was lying in the once empty hospital bed that had been stained with blood. The body was covered in patches of old blood and tubes. He recognized her immediately. The figure in the bed was that of Cameron, and House realized this was how she looked now in reality. This was what he would have seen had he taken her case. Machines beside her bed beeped and kept track of her heart rate and blood pressure. Right now, she looked perfectly stabilized. House turned back to the ghostly Cameron with the feeling of confusion running through his mind.

"You? I'm supposed to save _you_ in _this dream_? Why does everyone keep bothering me about this subject? It's really starting to get old now. So what are you, the ghost of Cameron or something?" Cameron sighed again and remained quiet for another moment.

"I guess you can say that. Though I think 'ghost' is meant to be reserved for those who are already dead. Clearly, I'm not dead yet. Still, you're the only one who has an exceptional chance of helping me, and I would appreciate it if you would." House faced the hospital bed again, trying to think without the Cameron's ghost staring at him so sternly. Even in his sleep, he couldn't get away from these types of subjects. House made his decision and turned away from the hospital bed. He focused cold eyes on Cameron's…spirit, maybe? Whichever term you used, it was the same thing.

"I'm not changing my decision just yet. I don't think I really want to. I would say sorry, but you'd probably think I'd be lying. Not that you're that good at deciding when I lie anyway." All of a sudden, the machines behind House went on the alert and he already knew what it meant. "Cameron"—if it was her at all—was beginning to go into cardiac arrest. House could only watch as the monitors sent out alarms that would normally send nurses and doctors rushing into the room, but there weren't any nurses this time. The ghostly Cameron moved towards the bed and looked down in wonder at her own body. Then, she waved her hand dismissively and the monitors returned to their quiet state. House realized it had been her that caused the immediate alarms. She faced House again and tilted her head at him, a few strands of her blond hair falling free.

"You see? That's what will happen if you refuse to help her. In this dream, it's only your decision that helps her. That's what I was explaining to you, House." Cameron smiled softly and House scowled at her. He didn't like the way this dream was turning out. Then, another thought came into his head.

"Who are you really if not Cameron's ghost?" The ghostly Cameron shrugged as if she herself had no clue.

"I am…let's just say that if this were "A Christmas Carol", I would most likely be playing Jacob Marley right now. That's the best way I know to explain it further." House felt another wave of confusion and dislike course through him.

"Why would that suit you?" Cameron—ghost, spirit, whichever—dropped her smile and focused sharply on House in a way that ruined some of her angelic image. Her eyes became hot coals that burned into House's own eyes and he wasn't sure he wanted to hear her answer. He was still trying to determine whether this image of Cameron could be lying to him; he previously accepted that this could be a possibility.

"It's simply because you are somewhat killing me now, mainly due to your ignorance. Or it could be that I pity you and your poor decisions. Choose whichever response makes you feel more comfortable. I suspect both of them don't sound very tasteful to you. So now…"

"Let me guess. 'Now you will be visited by three ghosts who will force you to change your ways.' Right? This is all interesting, but how the hell am I supposed to get out of this dream?" Cameron ignored House's question and his mocking tone.

"You aren't that far off, House. Each night you will be visited in this dream by three people. I just pray you'll listen to them instead of mock them like you seem to do with everyone else. Perhaps you'll make the right choice." House avoided her eyes as he gazed around the hospital room, trying to come up with ways to twist this conversation around. Cameron's words didn't escape him, no matter how much he tried to ignore her now.

"What three people? You know what; I have come up with the solution that I'm going to start listening to Wilson a lot less. Clearly this is his entire fault for putting the idea in my head." Cameron settled back on the hospital bed, careful not to touch her other self. House could feel her eyes on his back, watching his every move like a hawk.

"That's easy. It's the three people who cause you the most heartache. Besides me, that is. You're going to have to face those three people, house, whether you enjoy it or not." House finally faced her again and glared at her.

"That's the best you have? People who cause me heartache? A lot of people cause me heartache, simply because they are too annoying to bear. This should be fun. When's the first spirit or whatever coming?" Cameron headed for the door and motioned for House to follow her. Reluctantly, he moved beside her into the hallway, which was still quiet and empty. "This place isn't exactly lively, is it? A church is louder than this. So, when the hell is that spirit coming? I'm just so looking forward to the meeting. The spirit is definitely a woman, right?" Cameron pretended not to hear House's comment. She turned to face House once more and answered his question.

"The first spirit is coming now. Good luck, House. You're going to need it." With those last words, Cameron headed down the hallway before her entire figure faded into nothing, leaving House completely alone in anticipation for the first round.


	3. A Shadow of the Past

Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D. or the ideas of "A Christmas Carol". Clearly, someone does own these ideas, but that person definitely isn't me or I would be very ,VERY happy right now! So, I own nothing at all while writing this story. 

A/N: I am going to start by thanking those who have already reviewed my story and I hope you keep reading! You guys are awesome!! I also hope any other readers try to take the time to review my story since every review counts! I am sorry this chapter took longer than the previous ones, but I had to do some 'research' since I am using some scenes from actual House episodes that include some House/Cameron moments (just for the record, I am a true House/Cameron fan)! Now, time for the next chapter and it gets interesting. So, I hope everyone enjoys it! (= 

**Music that inspired this chapter: "I Remember You" by Skid Row, "Fast Car" by Tracy Chapman, and "Ever The Same" by Rob Thomas.**

Chapter 3: A Shadow of the Past 

House had little idea about what to do next. He knew he wanted to stay as far from Cameron's hospital room as possible; since he did not want to take her case in reality, he wasn't about to try it in a dream. He trained his eyes on the spot where the ghostly Cameron had disappeared and then spun around looking for another ghostly presence. The spirit of Cameron—House still wasn't sure about what she was—had said the first spirit would appear now. So where was it? And who would the person be if they supposedly caused him heartache? House attempted to sort out his thoughts, but everything seemed to be rushing around his mind all at once. Maybe there was some trick to getting out of this dream…

The sound of soft footsteps reached House's ears, and he was certain that this would be the first spirit. After all, there was nobody else here, right? The footsteps stopped almost right behind House, but no voice came. House sighed and imagined that someone would speak up soon, as long as he ignored the presence. Still, there was no other sound except his own quiet breathing. Reluctantly, House decided to face the figure.

"Great. Time for the first spirit already? I'm so thrilled…" When he turned to face the figure behind him, he stopped abruptly and immediately hoped his eyes were deceiving him at that moment. It seemed harder to breathe as he tried to register what he was seeing. The person standing behind House was Stacy, looking as she did the last time House had seen her. There was a small smile playing on her lips as she waited for him to say something, but House didn't exactly know what to say. Seeing someone like Stacy in a dream was the last thing House expected. This had to be impossible. House managed to ask the first question in his mind.

"You're not dead in reality, are you? That would be a shame if you were." Stacy shook her head slowly, and House imagined that she was unable to speak until she finally found her voice.

"No, of course not. Is that the first thing you're worried about? Whether I died? I thought you'd be wondering about the reason I'm here." House gave Stacy a skeptical look and felt some of the confusion lift away.

"I already figured out why you're here. You're supposed to show me my past and make me feel guilty, right? How does my past affect her?" House pointed towards the hospital room, but Stacy didn't look away from him. Apparently she already knew who he was talking about.

"You seem to forget that she worked on your team for three years. There are some things you should recall. I am supposed to help you remember. That's why I'm here." Stacy stepped near House and extended her hand to him. He glanced at it and then gazed back at her with suspicion. She rolled her eyes and carefully took hold of his hand. The edges of his vision immediately blurred and a blinding white light filled the room. House had to close his eyes in an attempt to escape the bright light that was washing over him. In another instant, the white light had faded and House cautiously opened his eyes to see his office. It looked the same as always, with the white board and the long table that was surrounded by a few chairs. The only thing that stuck out at House was the other person—besides him and Stacy—in the room.

There was one person seated at that House's desk, looking as if she was immeasurably calm and without troubles. That person was a younger version of Cameron. House gazed down at her with interest. She was younger than she currently was in reality, though not by much. She was still amazingly pretty and she still sported her dark, rich brown hair. Which meant that this had to be sometime in the past few years when she still worked for him. House turned to see himself standing in the doorway, staring past Stacy and looking at Cameron. House was taken aback for a moment, and then turned to face Stacy again.

"I'm guessing that none of these figures can see me here, right?" Stacy nodded without looking at him. She was staring at Cameron, just as House had been doing a moment ago. Her eyes appeared sympathetic, but House—for some reason or other—didn't feel the need to nag her about it. Perhaps it was because he still felt a pang of sympathy for Cameron, knowing that she was lying in a hospital bed in reality. House focused on what was written on the white board in the adjoining room, hoping to catch some clue of what case it was. Before he reached the end of the list, he knew. It was the first official case he had worked on with Cameron; it was the case of Rebecca Adler, who had suffered from tapeworms. Were they really this far in the past? Stacy tapped his shoulder and spoke up.

"Do you remember this moment, House? It was during the first year that they worked for you. It was before you really became involved with Cameron." House turned a pair of annoyed eyes on her and began to argue.

"I was never 'involved' with Cameron. We never really had a relationship. We went out for dinner once, and that was it. End of story." Stacy didn't look convinced.

"Really? Do you actually believe what you're saying, House? Or is that another story to cover up something…deeper?" House ignored Stacy and turned back to the scene just as his past self approached Cameron. She got right down to her point and started questioning before the past House could reach the desk.

_"Why did you hire me?"_ House suddenly recalled this scene and somewhat wished he wasn't reliving it. It was an old conversation being played over again, something House reasonably detested. The past House stalled for a moment before responding.

_"Does it matter?" _

_"Well, it's hard to work for a guy who doesn't respect you."_ Stacy forced House to look at her at that moment. He noticed immediately that her eyes were growing darker, darker than usual at least. In fact, she seemed troubled by what she was seeing now.

"You do respect her, don't you?" Stacy questioned quietly. House began to follow the past House and Cameron into the next room without answering Stacy. He knew his silence would bother her, but it was better than admitting what he was thinking at that instant. The past House was facing away from Cameron as she continued her interrogation. House could feel Stacy near him, and her presence was starting to annoy him little by little. Now, the past House was speaking again.

_"Can you do the job?"_

_"You hired a black guy because he had a juvenile record." _Stacy hit House on the arm and gave him a horrible look. Under her breath, she complained.

"I hope that's not true, House." He held up a hand and waited. The past House opened his mouth to speak.

_"No, it wasn't a racial thing; I didn't see a black guy. I just saw a doctor…with a juvenile record. I hired Chase because his dad made a phone call."_ The present House tossed a satisfied look at Stacy.

"See? I just answered your complaint without actually speaking myself. That has to be some type of talent." Stacy only rolled her eyes and pointed back to the scene. It seemed the past house wasn't finished yet.

_"I hired you because you are extremely pretty."_ Cameron showed off a surprised look while the present House didn't know what to say. Stacy stubbornly gazed at him with amazement.

"Now, that explanation I can believe is true. That sounds exactly like you, House." He gave her a skeptical look.

"That's because it _is_ me." House stated this with a tone that suggested that it was completely obvious to anyone.

"What was with that explanation, anyway? That was your reasoning for hiring her?" House looked at Stacy with annoyance.

"It seemed like a good reason at the time. Plus, it was a compliment." House turned away from Stacy. "Women," House muttered under his breath. House meant for Stacy to hear it, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she grasped his arm again, making House look up with a suspicious look. She instantly caught the question in his eyes.

"We're not done here yet. Not by a long shot." A new flash of white light blinded House and he put his arm over his eyes to block it out. This light lasted longer than the last time and House felt as if he might burn in this unbearable light. House felt his head spin and everything seemed to fall away in the next moment with Stacy still holding strongly onto him.

* * *

The next time House opened his eyes, he was staring at a ceiling and Stacy was looking down at him with worry. She shook her head hopelessly as she offered her hand down to House. He ignored it and slowly got to his feet, all the while trying to get a feel for his new surroundings. Stacy was leaning against a wall, looking at him with new wonder.

"You fainted while we were heading to a new memory. Sometimes that happens to people. It just happened more quickly to you." Stacy appeared ready to burst out laughing at her explanation, and House gave her a stern look that immediately stopped her silly expression. He turned around and again saw himself standing against another wall. This past House was facing away from them and he was apparently staring into one particular hospital room. Stacy led House towards this his past self and House could eventually see into that hospital room. Inside, the past Stacy was sitting on a hospital bed with her husband, and he realized that this memory was around the time he had finished Mark's case. A strange feeling came when House couldn't take his eyes away from this Stacy; the one who couldn't see him and the one he had tried to win back but had given up in the end anyway. Those memories came flooding back as if carried on a river; they just didn't stop. A soft pattern of footsteps came from behind House and, unlike the past House, turned to meet eyes with Cameron. He should have known she had to be here somewhere. Now, she approached the past House and didn't wait until he turned around to speak.

_"Dr. House? How is he doing?" _The past House looked over his shoulder before facing the hospital room again.

_"Never better."_

_"I thought you were too screwed up to love anyone. I was wrong. You just couldn't love me."_ The past House didn't look at her as she strode off, but a fresh wave of pain erupted in the present House. He was almost disappointed to see Cameron walk off like that, but what could he do? It was the past, and it couldn't be changed. He glared at his past self and, before he realized what he was doing, he angrily made an outburst towards the figure.

"You are an idiot." Stacy released a small laugh at the sight of House chastising himself. She placed a comforting hand on his arm, but he refused to look at her.

"You let me get in the way. That wasn't right for Cameron, House. You let me go, too. So, how did that make anything better?" Without meeting her gaze, House answered her.

"Just take us away from here already." Stacy nodded curtly and did as he said. This past memory washed away like water running over a whiteboard, and in the next instant it was gone.

* * *

More blinding light, and then a new scene appeared before House's eyes. Before him, House saw Cameron and Chase kissing, and Cameron looked high on some kind of drug. Great. Why were they _here?_ Stacy sighed and muttered something.

"Whoops. Wrong memory. Sorry." With another flash, they vanished again. House was certain that Stacy had done that deliberately in order to annoy him. They landed in a new memory and Stacy tried to hide a secretive smile. He disregarded her expression and glanced around.

He hoped this was the last memory; he wasn't sure how much longer he could take reliving these scenes. This time, it was in his office again, except it was a little darker in the room. He could see his past self, this one looking a bit older than the last two, and he was looking directly at Cameron, who stood only a foot away from him. House had an idea about which scene this was, and now a wave of irritation towards Stacy filled his head. As if on cue, she allowed her delicate hand to find House's own hand, willing him to look at her.

"How could you forget this scene? Hmmm?" Her eyes had returned to the warm, sympathetic expression that House was somewhat familiar with. Now, he couldn't help but to watch the scene that was unfolding before him. Stacy pulled away from House and followed his gaze to the past House and Cameron. At this moment, Cameron was lightly coming closer to the past House, attempting to bring her hands up toward his face. The present House rolled his eyes and threw a disgusted look at the scene, even though it was a lie. Stacy eyed him carefully while keeping a bit of attention on what was going on between the shadows of the past. This past House offered Cameron a guarded and curious look as she drew ever closer.

Finally, Cameron lifted her face slowly as she placed her hands on House's face and she closed the space between them in the next minute. The instant that her lips had touched his, it had been like a wildfire growing; House could recall this very clearly. Now, he turned away from the memory quickly. Of all the memories, Stacy had chosen this one. Stacy grabbed House's hand and he knew they were about to leave again. The last thing House heard was Cameron's final sentence, one that rang through House's head with inevitable truth.

_"You kissed back." _The office suddenly grew darker before that burst of suffocating white light enveloped House and the memory melted away smoothly. Even so, House could still hear Cameron's voice in his ears, the truth of her words burned in his mind, and the ghost of her kiss on his lips even though it had been years since he had received it.

* * *

"You're killing her, do you realize that?" Stacy had brought them back to the beginning, back to the deserted hospital and outside the hospital room that only sheltered the body of Cameron, whether it was really her or not. This was the first question Stacy asked since they returned, the one that was most crucial. House shook his head at her and avoided her gaze.

"How am I supposed to save her if you won't let me go?" His voice had become rough, cold, and harsh. His voice echoed off the empty walls, and it seemed to go on forever before it finally ceased. It made Stacy flinch, but she didn't show any other signs of hearing the change in his tone. Instead, she was overly calm, which only made House more irritated.

"I know you wouldn't try to save her even if I did let you go. I'm starting to think you're not getting the point of this whole situation. As usual." House still refused to acknowledge her; he resulted in staring at Cameron's hospital room.

"There are others in this hospital that can help her. Foreman, Chase, Wilson…"

"Haven't you wondered why this hospital is deserted in your dreams?" House glanced around and realized that she was right. There had to be a meaning to this; there had to be a reason for this place being so empty. It was almost like a metaphor; it held some specific type of underlying meaning. Now, House looked at Stacy directly with a thousand questions in his eyes. "It's because you're the only person here who could save her. The only one who could ever figure out what's wrong with her. You and I both know that. Please tell me those memories weren't a waste of time and that you will consider changing your mind, at least for her." That was the point: it was _because_ of her that he wanted to avoid this decision. Stubbornly, House argued that he would not take Cameron's case and that nothing had changed.

"People don't change, Stacy. I don't change. It makes sense that way." Stacy fixed her sad, disappointed eyes on him. Then, she turned and started off. House called after her, hoping she would not vanish that quickly.

"What about the second ghost or spirit or whatever?" Stacy half turned at the sound of his question.

"Until tomorrow, House. Tomorrow will be the arrival of the second spirit. I just hope it does more damage to your conscience than I've done tonight." Stacy faded away and House felt an immediate pain in his head. Everything around him finally went black, and House dreamed no more.

* * *

House awoke upright in his bed and it took him a few moments to realize that he was awake in reality; he was in his bed in his room and it was almost four in the morning. House lay back on the mattress, but didn't close his eyes. He did not want to start dreaming again. Then a slow smile crossed his face as a new thought filled his mind. The dream was over. House turned on his side and slowly drifted back to sleep. The dream was over. Or has it just begun?


	4. Back To Reality

Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D. or the ideas of the story "A Christmas Carol". Someone does, but it surely isn't me. So, I own nothing while writing this story. 

A/N: Thank you again to the readers who have reviewed my story. It really helps my story keep going. So, I hope the readers keep reviewing and enjoying the story. Also, in one of the reviews someone asked me why I was making House go through three days of "spirits" rather than one night like Scrooge. This is mainly because I want to draw the story out and I happen to think it would be just too short for my liking if I made it all in one night. Still, I hope the readers enjoy and remember to review afterwards! (= 

**Music that inspired this chapter: "Running Up That Hill" by Placebo, "Here We Go" by Mat Kearney, and "Hit The Ground" by Lizz Wright. **(=

Chapter 4: Back To Reality

A foot of thick, white snow covered every surface the next morning and it was something of a relief to feel the blasting heat inside the hospital. House took his time walking to his office that morning, not really looking forward to talking to anyone, particularly Wilson. His eyes felt unbearably heavy as he limped to the elevator and he cursed Wilson for putting those thoughts in his head. He made sure to pop some Vicodin before he stepped into the elevator. The doors had almost closed when a hand intercepted them. The elevator doors slid open again to reveal Wilson, who was wearing a cheerful, peaceful expression. Great. He moved into the elevator next to House, but he did not speak as the elevator ascended. Finally, House felt the silence had become too uneasy.

"This is all your fault, you know. I'm blaming you." Wilson stared at House with confusion written all over his face. At least that took care of the cheerful problem. Wilson chose his words carefully while still attempting to register what House was referring to.

"It's my fault that we're in an elevator together? Yeah, I'll be sure to add that to my list of sins when I'm going to confession." House rolled his eyes and gave Wilson an impatient look.

"Not the elevator. It's your fault that I had strange dreams last night. You put those ideas in my head yesterday." Wilson's expression seemed to become even more confused. House could see that Wilson was trying hard to figure this conversation out.

"You're having weird dreams—which, by the way, is not as unusual for you as it is for the rest of the world—and your solution is to blame me? That makes sense…to a point. Maybe you're just taking too much Vicodin, House. Cameron's stable, by the way." House avoided looking at Wilson as a mental image of Cameron in a hospital bed ran through his mind. He knew that if he went to her hospital room, she would look the same as she did in the dream. Wilson cleared his throat loudly.

"So, what did you dream about?" House gave Wilson a look of disbelief.

"Oh, now you want the details? Now that you ask that, I don't feel like telling you." Wilson laughed softly before facing House directly, even if House would not glance at him. The elevator beeped to signal that they reached the requested floor and the doors slid smoothly open. Wilson stalled for only a minute.

"House…Merry Christmas," Wilson stated with amusement and walked away without turning back. The doors began to close and House stopped them with his cane. He stood there for another minute as he registered Wilson's words. Of course Cameron was still sick, even if she was supposedly stabilized. He had simply forgotten that today was December the 25th.

* * *

There was only one thing that was a relief to House about Cameron being sick. She wasn't there to give House's office a Christmas make-over. Normally, she would have hung strings of garland and placed a large bowl of candy canes on his desk, maybe even add a small tree. Now, his office was the same as any other day, just the way he liked it.

The only two people in House's office were Foreman and Chase. House dropped his things next to his desk and strode over to the adjoining room, trying not to think about his adventure here the night before. Foreman was sloppily writing something on the white board; Cameron's symptoms he presumed. And Foreman said he wasn't anything like House. Right. There weren't many symptoms yet, which said very little about how they were handling the case so far. If anything, they were probably screwing something up. House noticed that neither doctor looked up as he entered the room.

"Didn't you ever wonder why they call that thing you're writing on a 'white board'? I would have thought the answer is pretty obvious." Foreman threw a look at House that lacked surprise and sighed.

"I think you've already tried that on me, House. This isn't your case, anyway." House glanced around for a full minute before meeting Foreman's eyes again.

"True, but this _is_ my office. I outrank you easily. Am I right, Steve Irwin?" Chase did not look up at House as he stood with his arms crossed. "Fine, don't appreciate my humorous nature whatsoever. I'm sure you two are just working wonders on Cameron. In case you aren't aware, that was sarcastic." Foreman turned away from House and Chase resulted in lounging back in a chair. House examined the list on the white board and smirked. It was a hopelessly short and pitiful list; he had expected something more than this by now. Another thought came to his mind and he tried to get Foreman's attention again.

"Did Cameron go into cardiac arrest since you took her case?" Chase sat up and appeared thoughtful, but he also looked curious about House's intentions. Foreman wasn't impressed in House's sudden change in attitude.

"I thought you weren't interested in Cameron's case. Changing your mind so soon?" House stepped towards Foreman and his tone became stern.

"Did Cameron go into cardiac arrest?" Foreman seemed ready to protest, but stopped to consider his answer. Then, with suspicious eyes that mirrored Chase's expression, he slowly responded.

"No. She never went into cardiac arrest." Just then, both Foreman and Chase's beepers went off. After glancing at them, their faces changed to grave expressions. Chase jumped out of his chair and swiftly left the room. Foreman glared at House, allowing his eyes to burn through House, and followed quickly behind Chase. House gazed at the whiteboard for another minute before leaving the office and heading to the hospital room that now held an ill-fated Cameron.

* * *

House, as usual, was right. The instant he stepped into Cameron's hospital room, he had a sense of déjà vu. Her body lay still on the bed, the monitors screaming that she had flat-lined. It felt as if he was standing in his dream again, and he was waiting for the ghostly Cameron to make the scene stop. In the back of his head, he knew that spirit of Cameron would not come, that the ill body in the hospital bed was the only Cameron here and her fate now rested in the hands of her fellow co-workers. Still, House could only witness what was going on.

Chase was standing next to the hospital bed, trying to get Cameron's heart to start again. Foreman rushed in, guiding the crash cart behind him. Chase paused in pumping Cameron's chest to stare angrily at House, who had moved to the end of the hospital bed, and had locked his eyes on the limp figure of Cameron.

"Could you possibly do something to help? This is Cameron, for God's sake." House absently shook his head and could only watch.

"No," he whispered faintly. Foreman muttered something incomprehensible, though House did catch the word "bastard" in there. Foreman set up the paddles and began using them on Cameron. Her body lurched in the air for a second, but the machines claimed she was still flat-lined. Foreman aimed again, but still there was no change. Chase hung his head and started making soft, moaning sounds. His body shook slightly, and House suspected he was crying. Foreman swiped a hand across his forehead and tried one more time. Again, Cameron's body jumped into the air, and then the machines beeped once before slowing. Foreman breathed a sigh of relief as Cameron's chest eventually started moving again. He glanced quickly at Chase before exiting the room with the crash cart in tow. As soon as Foreman was gone, Chase bent down to Cameron and attempted to hold her while hiding his face in her light hair. House tossed him a pitiful look, even though he wasn't paying attention and House couldn't help hearing Chase as he quietly murmured.

"Allison. Allison. Oh, Allison. You're going to be alright. I promise." House muttered something like "give me a break" under his breath and Chase's head snapped up, as if he just realized that House was still there. His cheeks went red, almost like he was embarrassed by his act of comforting Cameron.

"How did you know that, House? How did you know that she would go into cardiac arrest? This isn't even your case." Chase's tone was hard and serious, and his eyes were narrowed as he waited for House's answer.

"Trust me, you don't want to know. In fact, I don't think you'll even believe me. As far as you know, I was just lucky." Chase straightened up and glided over to House. If his tone was cold before, it was as frozen as ice now.

"You knew this would happen. Why are you refusing Cameron's case? Are you really that stubborn?" House turned away and Chase scowled. He headed for the door, but stopped to add in one more statement, one that aimed knives at House.

"Cameron would be very disappointed in you, House." With that, he left the hospital room and angrily started down the hallway. House looked back at Cameron's body, still hearing Chase's words in his mind, and he wished she would at least open her eyes. House recalled his dream in which Cameron had gone into cardiac arrest. Others would believe that the connection between his dream and reality was simple coincidence. Too bad House didn't believe in coincidences.


	5. You're Not Cameron

Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D. whatsoever. Someone certainly does own this fabulous series, but it surely isn't me (sadly!). So, I do not own anything while writing this story. 

A/N: Once again, thank you everyone for giving me awesome reviews. I do not know what my story would be like without all those supportive and amazing reviews for each chapter! I hope the readers keep on reading (as well as reviewing, of course) and enjoy the next chapter. (=

**Music that inspired this chapter: "You Found Me" by the Fray, "Never Say Never" by the Fray, and "Broken" by Seether and Amy Lee (from Evanescence). (=**

Chapter 5: You're Not Cameron

House denied his desire to sleep that night. He didn't know if he could believe what had happened the previous night, but he refused to sleep anyway. Instead, he paced around his living room, thinking about the events from earlier that day. Foreman was intent on keeping House out of the loop until the exact moment when House would agree to take Cameron's case. There wasn't much to go on when there was a lack of information. Chase was still too guarded and angry to speak to House about her case, so House decided to skip over that option.

Pushing all thoughts of Cameron away, House downed two more Vicodin and started to pace again while slowly spinning his cane in his hand. What would actually happen if he fell asleep? Would the same events of the previous night take place again tonight? House did not have an answer to those questions, nor did he want to have the answers for once. House decided to make an attempt in staying up through the night, in hopes that he would avoid speaking with unreal ghosts.

First, House tried to stay active for a while, maybe keep his mind off the idea of falling asleep. He tried watching television, but there was nothing interesting to watch. He switched to playing his piano, and that worked out fine until he began playing a Christmas tune without realizing it at first, which eventually conjured the thoughts of Cameron in her hospital bed on this night; the night of Christmas, that is. All his good taste for playing the piano suddenly soured. Soon, he even resulted to tidying up his bedroom, which included gathering the crushed pieces of the spilled pills and old blood. House pushed the image of the owner of this blood out of his mind instantly. By two in the morning, House had little left to occupy himself with. By two-thirty, he was almost dead asleep and went to meet whatever spirit was coming for him during the night.

* * *

It was freezing cold in the empty hospital. The only other presence there with House was the never-ending black shadow that danced along the hallways. House tried not to let the cold get to him, but it was as if he had been drenched in a lake of ice water. It was hard—maybe impossible—to ignore the chilled sensation that was crawling on his skin and, furthermore, it felt unwelcome. It took House a few minutes to disregard that cold feeling and focus more closely on his whereabouts.

He was in the same hallway that he had been in the night before. The same dimmed lights washed over him and offered little comfort. Reluctantly, he looked over to the hospital room on his right and he knew what he would find there. He could almost sense her presence, as if he was mentally attuned to her. Still, he found that his feet were leading him to that room, almost like there was a desperate need to visit the person that was lying peacefully on that hospital bed, even if it wasn't really her.

Once House was inside the room, his feet stopped as if they suddenly turned to lead. There she was in the bed, so still and limp. It appeared at first that she wasn't alive at all, that maybe she was a fake doll instead. Somehow, House managed to approach the side of the bed. There was a difference about her tonight. Now, there were tubes running into her mouth, helping her to breathe. Her skin was paler than the night before; it looked more like the delicate skin of Snow White. He noticed that Cameron's hair also looked lighter than usual. In fact, it seemed to get lighter with every passing minute. House was absorbing all these details so strongly that he did not hear the pattern of footsteps coming closer.

"Changed your mind yet?" House spun around quickly and there stood the ghostly Cameron, angelic appearance and all. Her cynical smile was knowing, and House realized that she was mocking him. "What's the matter? Did I scare you, House?" He could only glare at her as she began to laugh darkly. He was studying the differences between her and the familiar Cameron that he knew so well. It was only until this unfamiliar spirit—House knew for certain that she was not exactly Cameron—moved to the side of the bed opposite him that he finally found his voice.

"So which spirit should I be expecting tonight? Someone else that I'm not really expecting?" The ethereal Cameron only gazed down at her realistic self. A sad look crossed over her face.

"Poor girl. Slowly slipping away into a deep coma." In another moment, her face lit up excitedly, and House felt himself growing suspicious of her actions. He didn't know if he could trust this stranger, and he wasn't ready to do so yet. Her strange smile seemed to glow as her eyes filled with absolute amusement. "Want to see what will happen next?" House waited, but he wasn't sure what he should be anticipating. Then, a dark crimson stain began to show on the sheets. House carefully lifted the white sheets off Cameron's body. He immediately saw where the blood—for that was exactly what it was—came from. Cameron was bleeding heavily onto the hospital bed, and soon the red substance covered everything from Cameron's legs to the whole of the end of the hospital bed. House stepped away cautiously, all the while watching as the ghost-like Cameron's eyes grew dark as coal. It wasn't a hurt, sad kind of darkness, though. This was more of a dangerous, deadly, but excited kind of darkness. Was she actually relishing this scene?

"This isn't reality. You're just tormenting me by showing me what will happen to the real Cameron, because you don't think I can do anything about it," House quietly stated with a certainty he didn't realize he felt at that moment. Once the words were out, House discovered that they were true. The spirit-like Cameron lifted her head to stare angrily at House.

"You refuse to save her. Now you're blaming me if she gets worse? It's only natural and expected." The calm way her words reached House was annoying, and he was almost unable to stand her any longer. The differences were becoming clearer with every moment and it wasn't a realization that House enjoyed. She was nothing like Cameron; the Cameron he knew was warm, friendly, caring, and always had a bright, hopeful smile on her face. This stranger was cold, hard, dangerous, and unfamiliar. He despised her.

"You're not Cameron. You're nothing like her at all. So, who are you really?" the spirit before him shifted her position a few times and then glided closer to house. The words did not seem to bother her. Her ironic smile grew wider as she considered her response.

"Sure, I'm not sweet and sugary and hopelessly hopeful like that weak girl who is now slowly dying. It's true, I'm nothing like her. I may look like her, but her personality isn't exactly my style. No, if there is anyone I'm similar to, it's you, House. Just face it. I'm exactly like you." House didn't know what to say to her. His eyes narrowed as he felt anger pulse through his body.

"I'm not like you. I don't want to be like you. I don't even know who you are." The spirit shook her head as if she pitied him, which only caused him to feel more irritation. And she just stood there, calmly, as if nothing in the world could touch her or affect her.

"You know what? I'm getting annoyed with you always hanging around in my dreams. Where's this second ghost or spirit or…" The ghostly Cameron threw an unimpressed look at House.

"Or a shadow?"

"Whatever it is! Where is it? I'd rather have the second spirit hanging around instead of you," House exclaimed in a harsh tone that made the ethereal Cameron wince. Now she just looked furious.

"Very well. If you're so eager to meet the second one, then I really have to wish you 'good luck', even if I don't actually mean it. Then again, you're so well known for your won theory, right? 'Everybody lies,' hmmm?" In the next instant, the spirit-like Cameron was gone, same as the blood on the sheets. The white linen on the hospital bed had returned to their original lean state. House glanced around the hospital room, but he was still alone. Leaving Cameron behind, he stepped into the quiet hallway and immediately came face to face with someone that he wasn't looking forward to seeing tonight.


	6. Present Shadows

Disclaimer: I do not own the brilliant ideas of House M.D. or the classic story of "A Christmas Carol". Someone in the universe does, but it certainly isn't me (though I would be so happy if it was!). So, I ultimately own nothing while writing this story. 

A/N: Sorry that it took so long to update! I was nearly up to my head in schoolwork and I barely had an hour to myself this week. Add that with the task of applying to various colleges (yes, I am a senior in high school) and that becomes really stressful. )= No worries, though! Here is the next chapter in the story and I hope that the readers keep on reading! Remember to take some time to review after reading; it helps my story continue! Enjoy!

Chapter 6: Present Shadows 

Cuddy was leaning against the wall opposite Cameron's hospital room. After the unpleasant moment with that other Cameron, house didn't feel up to seeing anyone else tonight, especially her. Yet, here she was before him and apparently waiting for his reaction. He wasn't planning on giving her the satisfaction of catching him surprised. Instead, he carefully took in the details of this spirit; he was attempting to convince his mind that it wasn't actually Cuddy here. It couldn't really be her.

Cuddy was wearing a grim expression as she met House's gaze. Clearly, she wasn't exactly pleased about being here. Well, that made two now. She was the last thing—besides Stacy, of course—that he expected. He definitely wasn't about to admit that it was solely because she was one person who had caused him heartache, like that other Cameron said. Then again, House no longer trusted anything she said and now imagined that she was doing this on purpose in order to really get to him. Confusion filled his mind as he tried to figure out the meaning here. In trying to cover up his reaction, House broke the silence and said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Wow. You're definitely better than the last spirit. For a number of reasons, too. The first being how that shirt really makes you look good." Cuddy glanced down at her shirt, and then threw a disgusted look at House. She wasn't as skilled with covering up her real feelings because her face suddenly blushed a light pink and her eyes, for one moment, had held a hint of something pleasing. House also recognized how she tried to make her voice sound sharp and unfeeling when it was actually there just to hide any kind of emotion from him, emotion that he picked up despite her efforts at coldness.

"That's not the reason I'm here. I am not simply here to entertain you, House."

"Then why are you here?" Cuddy pushed away from the wall and her expression became more serious. It was the most serious expression House had ever seen her wear.

"I'm here to show you what is happening in the present, mainly as a result of your poor choices. Not that that's very surprising to me." House shook his head impatiently.

"I know that part. I meant why are _you _here instead of some other person in my life?" Cuddy sighed deeply, as if the answer was completely obvious.

"Well, it's because I'm the only woman available in your current lifestyle." At this, Cuddy gave him a knowing look and the beginning of a smile appeared on her face. House felt a few more questions invade his mind before she could move past the subject.

"It has to be a woman that appears in my dreams?" Now, Cuddy was the impatient looking one. Her smile became tight and strained.

"Well, that's apparently what you prefer, House. I'm only a shadow that is appearing before you, kind of like a figment of your mind. Would you rather face Wilson?" House thought about that one for only an instant.

"Nope. You'll work just fine. Let's just go wherever we have to go and get it over with. However, you probably already know that you're wasting your time. I've already visited Cameron's hospital room in reality." Cuddy gave him a look that said she heard these words before, and then she grabbed his hand.

"True, but you didn't go behind the scenes yet. That's where I come in." House closed his eyes tight as a flash of light filled the hallway around them. It wasn't that easy to get used to such blinding light. A full minute of silence passed by before House hesitantly opened his eyes.

Before him was an unfamiliar bedroom. House recalled when Stacy had messed up one particular scene and had annoyed House. Was Cuddy really trying the same thing? If so, it was getting pretty boring. Instead of complaining, House looked around the room, trying to figure out where they had landed. There was a large bed in the center of the room as well as two bureaus. The room looked like it could be the bedroom of a couple rather than one single person; it was incredibly huge and there were a number of photos on one desk, framed in large silver frames. House turned to give Cuddy a questioning gaze, but she only pointed towards another door that House had not previously noticed.

Without warning, the door suddenly flew open and Chase stumbled out of what looked to be a bathroom. In his hand, he was holding a good-sized bottle that was half-empty. Immediately, House figured it was alcohol that Chase was gulping down and it wasn't hard to realize his reasoning behind it. House turned to face Cuddy and discovered that her eyes were full of sadness and pity. House's focus moved back to Chase, who was now standing at a window, occasionally bringing the bottle to his mouth. It was obvious from Chase's faraway expression that he was deep in thought. Just like with the drinking, it was simple to guess what he was thinking about now. If House wasn't experiencing strange feelings for Cameron, he would have thought the scene pathetic.

For some reason, House began considering her case. In the last two days, she had faced problems left and right. If House was thinking correctly, tomorrow she would begin to bleed heavily. What did that mean? Surely Foreman and Chase were nowhere near an answer or anything that could pass as an acceptable solution. What was wrong with Cameron that could be hurting her and threatening her so much? House remembered that she had thrown up blood in his apartment and she had felt such thrashing pain that she had collapsed onto the floor. Maybe he was the only one who could eventually find an answer. What the hell was wrong with her anyway? Perhaps if he tossed it around his mind for a while…

Chase finally turned around and House caught a glimpse of the trail of tears that now existed in his eyes. Chase tossed back what was left in the bottle and then limply allowed it to drop to the floor, not caring if it smashed into shards. It was actually clear to House: Cameron's poor case was tearing at Chase. House's smile lifted for a second as he caught the rhyme in that statement. Cuddy moved closer to House and he got the feeling she wanted to say something. Well, so did he right now. What was the point of this scene if only to make House feel bad? To House's dismay, it was working a bit.

"You see what you're doing to Chase? He's torn about Cameron's case and he's angry at you for ignoring the decision to help her." House dropped his head slightly and stared at the floor instead of at Chase. He closed his eyes tightly, as if somehow that would make the scene suddenly disappear and he would no longer be forced to face the world around him.

* * *

The next time House opened his eyes, a new scene had unfolded before him. He hadn't even noticed that they had traveled again; he had been so wrapped around his own thoughts. This time, they were standing inside Cuddy's office and only two people—besides the obvious, of course—were present in the large office. The two people were Foreman and Cuddy herself. House couldn't take his eyes off this new figure of Cuddy as he tried to register what he was seeing. Breaking the silence, Cuddy—the ghost version—made a sudden sound that seemed close to a grunt.

"I can see now why you like this shirt on me. As a matter of fact, I am never wearing this shirt again." House showed her a dramatic look before voicing another concern.

"Wait, if you're here with me as a spirit, why are you in this scene? I mean, if it is actually the present?" Cuddy sighed and placed on hand impatiently against her forehead. The glare she gave him was somewhat amusing.

"I already explained this. Or were you too busy staring at my shirt again?" House spread his hands as if saying 'well-what-did-you-expect' before meeting her gaze again. "I am only here as a shadow and that—"Cuddy pointed towards her realistic self. "—is the real me in the present. Pay attention, House and stop staring at my chest next time." With a little _humph_ she turned back to the scene and House followed suit. The oh-so-kind spirit next to him held a finger to her lips as Foreman opened his mouth to speak.

_"We tried a number of options already. I'm not sure there are many choices left. This case is pushing us hard, especially since it's only me and Chase working on it," _Foreman stated in a forlorn tone. House elbowed Cuddy so that she would glance over at him.

"See? This is exactly why he can't act like me no matter how hard he tries. Otherwise, he would have figured it out by now. And you guys think he's like _me?_ Right." Cuddy's expression was unimpressed as she gestured towards the scene again. House rolled his eyes dramatically and lowered his voice to a whisper. "It's not like they can…HEAR US!" House suddenly yelled these last two words, taking Cuddy by surprise. She jumped back and held one hand to the ear that House had yelled in. She furiously crossed her arms.

"House! Would you just shut up and pay attention? This is for your own good, not mine." He glared at her for another minute before facing away from her. The realistic Cuddy put her head in one hand and appeared stressed out. Her voice lacked emotion as she responded to Foreman's disappointing words.

_"If House hadn't actually refused her case, you'd be anywhere except hopelessly standing in my office right now. You already tried an MRI, treatment, everything?" _Foreman stepped towards Cuddy's desk, but did not look her in the eyes.

_"We already completed an MRI test. It was completely normal, just like the tox screen. Nothing foreign in her system, though I already know Cameron too well to believe that she would have been drinking or trying out drugs. Wilson previously thought it was some kind of cancer, but the tests he tried are negative. Plus, Chase and I don't believe it's anything close to cancer. We don't know what it is." _Cuddy dropped her hand and stood up, taking care to move around her desk. Foreman shot her a curious glance.

_"I'm thinking the only way to figure this out is if we attempt to change House's mind." _Foreman's confused look shifted to one of disbelief, as if this was the last thing he wanted to hear coming from someone like Cuddy.

_"House has already told you he's not taking the case. He watched Cameron go into cardiac arrest and he's still saying he doesn't want anything to do with it. If you ask me, he's acting more cruel than he usually acts. Plus, you already tried that option before. What makes you think a second time around will change his mind?" _House turned to face the spirit of Cuddy with a suspicious look in his eyes.

"Yeah, what he asked. I want answers, too. So, explain." Cuddy simply ignored House. Reluctantly, he started watching the scene again. Now, the realistic Cuddy was moving towards the office door with Foreman in tow. She stopped at the door and met Foreman's eyes once more.

_"I feel like I have to get him to agree to this case. You know he's probably the only one who could figure this out, even if it only represents a puzzle to him. So, I'm heading over to his place. Just keep working the case and do whatever you think you should do." _Foreman caught her hand before she fully moved outside the office.

_"Merry Christmas, Cuddy. Even if Cameron's not having one, doesn't mean you shouldn't be able to."_ He only gave him a saddened look before trying to put on a weak smile.

_"Yeah, right. Doesn't seem so merry this year."_ Foreman shrugged and followed Cuddy out of the office. She glanced again around the office before clicking off the lights and locking her door, leaving House in almost pitch darkness and waiting for that inevitable burst of a white glow.

* * *

Cameron's hospital room, for once, was completely empty. Occasionally, a nurse would glide by and check in on her, but they wore expressionless faces that knew there would be little change in her status. House landed beside her bed while Cuddy gently appeared landed at the end of the bed. It was true; Cameron's status had not differed in the least bit. She was still deep in a coma and nobody knew what was wrong with her. Cuddy didn't make any movement as she watched House while he stared down at Cameron's lifeless body. He was almost expecting her to wake up and smile brightly at him, just as she used to do before she started getting involved with Chase. He felt a hard pressure in his chest, one that he wasn't ready to admit as the pain in his heart. He definitely wouldn't reveal this to Cuddy. Slowly, he faced her spirit, all the while finding it harder to hide his thoughts.

"Why are we here? I already told you that I had been here before in reality." There was a spark in her eyes that told him she was catching on to what eh was really thinking. She now sported a sympathetic smile, one he wished she wouldn't use on him.

"What's your actual reasoning for refusing Cameron's case? There has to be a good reason, House. I wish you wouldn't shut me out so much. Why do you insist on letting her fate fall into someone else's hands?" He fought against facing her; he knew that if he did, she might just get a glimpse of what was rolling in his head now. For some reason, he couldn't afford that. Still, she wasn't giving up easily. "Why won't you just help her, House? It's not like you would see her anyway. You never go see your patients and why would she be any different? You could stay holed up in your office, doing whatever it is you do to find answers. All I'm asking is that you help her. Why does that have to be so impossible?" House would not look at her and he only continued to stare at Cameron's face, one that was looking more and more like a lifeless doll.

Cuddy took hold of House's arm and dragged him out to the hallway. At that instant, the lights dimmed slightly and House realized that this experience was coming to an end. That was short, and it wasn't as hurtful as Stacy's visit had been.

"It's already over? So soon?" Cuddy stopped next to the wall that she had previously leaned against and directly gazed at House. Her eyes were filled to the brim with sadness and they were searching House's eyes as if that would give her the answers she wanted. As if that would help her to understand what was on the surface of his mind.

"Cameron needs you, House. You know it and I know it. Better yet, I realize now that you're not really in love with me, House. Are you?" House faced her head on and sternly responded.

"No, I'm not. Does that disappoint you?" Her smile was weak and forced as she considered this question.

"No. I know you're not in love with me. In fact, I would feel much better if you weren't in love with me. I guess it's not complicated to figure out that I don't want that kind of relationship now and neither do you. So, what really is your reasoning for not helping Cameron? I know it's not just her case; you solve every puzzle that comes your way and that means her case isn't what's pushing you away. What is it?" It was fact that House was skeptical about the idea of God, but he was now praying to all the forces in the universe that she would drop this subject soon. It was never pleasant for him to know that she was one stubborn woman.

"Don't you have someone else to lead around now that we're done here? It's no surprise that you'll be bothering me when I wake up in reality. So, let's finish this up." Cuddy forced another light smile before nodding curtly and walking down the hallway. Before she had taken five steps, she spun around again.

"One more spirit and then you're done. I do hope you'll choose the right decision, House. Good luck and I don't imagine that I'll give you such a hard time in reality." Then, she began to fade away and, in another second, she had vanished before House's eyes. This was getting to be too much, and he was already certain that this would take an even deeper toll on him the next day. Just like the night before, a pang started in his head and a wave of pain resulted in his skull. He rubbed at the side of his head before everything became increasingly dark. House lifted his head and it only took him a moment to realize that he was back in his bedroom. The sheets were twisted around him and his breath came in heavy gasps. The first sound he heard was a light rapping at the door, and he already predicted who would be waiting on the other side.


	7. Running Out Of Time

Disclaimer: I wish I had full rights to the brilliant idea that is House M.D…but I don't. I do not own House M.D. (that goes for characters, places, and events) and I most certainly do not own the ideas of the classic story "A Christmas Carol". Someone does, but it isn't me. 

A/N: First off, thank you again for all the reviews; they really help my story to keep living. I also hope that the readers enjoy the next chapter and perhaps take a few moments at the end to review and tell me what they think. All reviews are very much appreciated! Thank you and enjoy. 

Additional Note: I might expand these next few chapters, so if they seem very long please keep reading it! Plus, someone makes a cameo in this chapter!! Time is almost running out for House and then who knows what he will do? (Well, except for me, of course, since I'm the one writing it!!) Keep on reading and enjoy!

**Music that inspired this chapter: "Angels On The Moon" by Thriving Ivory, "Don't Fear The Reaper" by HIM, "Wings Of A Butterfly" by HIM, and "Second Chance" by Shinedown.**

Chapter 7: Running Out of Time

The insistent rapping on the door continued as House managed to pull himself away from the tangled sheets on his bed. He grabbed up his cane, took time to swallow two pills, and stumbled towards the living room, which eventually led to the front door. House paused in the doorway of his bedroom, already considering the words that would inevitably tumble out of Cuddy's mouth only moments after he would allow her entrance. Plus, by taking his precious time in heading for the door, House was sure to annoy Cuddy before she had the chance to annoy him. Score one for the doctor.

House approached the front door and deliberately waited for Cuddy to knock hard against the door a few more times. Now it sounded as though she were irritated, simply by the way she was knocking as loud as she could and perhaps as hard as she could. House swung the door wide open once she had quieted down and there stood a furious, yet exhausted-looking Cuddy with her arms crossed. House found it somewhat amusing that she was about to lecture him when, only minutes before, he had secretly listened in on what she wanted to say. House actually had to stifle a brief laugh, hoping that Cuddy wouldn't notice, but apparently she noticed everything.

"Something amusing, House? Why am I even asking? Everything that's complicated eventually becomes amusing to you. What took you so long in answering anyway?" House filled the front door, preventing Cuddy from stepping any closer.

"Sorry, I was busy with another woman. She was so attractive; it took all my strength to leave her to come see which annoying person was banging on my door. Don't tell me you're here to declare that we're getting a divorce, honey?" Cuddy rolled her eyes dramatically as if she didn't expect any less from someone like House. She then gestured to his living room and House grudgingly let her pass. She paced around his living room for a few minutes, taking every sight in and looking as if there were something seriously wrong with the room before hesitantly settling herself on the end of the sofa. House limped over to the other side of the room and glared down at her while remaining in a standing position. Cuddy suddenly pasted an expression of concern on her face, one that House was determined to ignore. Then again, even he could sense the breaking of his once strong boundaries. He hated to admit it this late in the game, but his previous argument about refusing Cameron's case was slowly melting away. Boy, he was anticipating the arrival of the third ghost if only to get this whole situation over with.

"Is your leg hurting you at all?" Cuddy had aimed this unexpected question at him, and it was one he had to wonder about. As if on cue, a shot of pain entered his leg and he attempted to hide the discomfort from Cuddy. Still, it wasn't supposed to be hurting, especially since he had just swallowed two Vicodin no more than ten minutes ago. Placing one hand on his leg, House nodded slowly. Cuddy sighed deeply and got to her feet. She came closer to House and he backed away as though she had leprosy. "Are you alright, House?"

"I'm perfectly fine. You know how my leg constantly hurts, so why does that surprise you now? I'm fine." He turned away from her, but Cuddy was seemingly unconvinced.

"I'm trying to figure out this whole situation, House. Why won't you take her case? There has to be something…" House suddenly whipped around to meet her eyes, his own like cold ice which held her gaze steady. Cuddy actually took a step back, as if House's expression had hurt her somehow.

"We've been over this a thousand times, or so it seems like it. Let Chase and Foreman deal with it, but I will not take her case! I said it before and I am saying it now; it holds the same meaning as when I first said it in your office. I am not handling this case." Cuddy looked ready to shed a few tears. Her eyes had taken on a sad, hopeless look as she attempted to get House to reconsider. House, on the other hand, was feeling a strange sense of anger at Cuddy, the one who kept pushing and badgering him about his choice. Now, she lowered her voice to a faint whisper.

"House…you can't…please, for Cameron…"

"I'M NOT TAKING HER CASE!" Cuddy collapsed onto the couch as House's stern voice surrounded her. She looked like he had struck her hard. Two slow tears fell down her cheeks as she took his words in. Then, she rose to her feet once more and started for the front door, not bothering to look House in the eyes. When she finally reached the door, she half turned and spoke only a few words to him.

"Let's just hope your decision doesn't take away Cameron's life. That would be a pity, House." She burst through the door and slammed it closed behind her. The empty room, with no possible presence but House himself, seemed to mock him. The silence was never-ending as he stood still beside the piano, contemplating Cuddy's words. It was true that he had already known what she was going to say. Even so, this scene seemed worse than the one that had existed in his dreams.

* * *

House decided against going into the hospital the next morning, if only to avoid running into Cuddy after that awful scene. House's head was still reeling from that scene, how he had raised his voice to Cuddy when he usually didn't result to it before. It had come on so quickly that he just happened to snap at Cuddy. The look on her face was strange—no, not strange, maybe hurtful in some way. It was the way her defenses seemed to break away at that one moment and made her appear vulnerable. He knew full well she would give him a difficult time if he showed up at the hospital, simply because she was disgusted and furious with him. Still, that wasn't his fault. If only she would stop trying to change his mind. If only every force in the world would stop trying to change his mind. Then, maybe it would be easier to stay strong with his choice.

Since he wasn't heading for the hospital—and Wilson had called numerous times to make sure House would arrive, calls that House had ignored—he figured he should try to talk to someone. Wilson was clearly out of the picture; he would just end up agreeing with Cuddy's view that House should stop playing whatever game he was playing. Foreman was not an option; he would argue with House and say that he was being either selfish or just plain stupid. Chase was the last thing House would result to; he was Cameron's love interest and he was still angry at House for refusing Cameron's case. So who was there left? A thought immediately came into House's mind. To House, it seemed like a pretty good idea.

* * *

House banged on the apartment door at least five more times before he heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door. He was sure this would help him in some way. The door swung open to reveal a young woman, one who was incredibly familiar to House. He nodded his head at her as she gave him a look of suspicion.

"Thirteen. Well? It's kind of rude to leave a visitor in the cold." Thirteen swept a piece of her long brown hair over her shoulder and stepped aside to allow House entrance to the apartment. She closed the door with enough force to suggest that she was irritated. That wasn't so unfamiliar to House, either. He glanced around the apartment before choosing to stand near an open window. Thirteen followed House to the window, but decided to wait for his words.

"Do you think it's my fault if Cameron dies? I know Foreman must have told you already." Thirteen nodded and took a minute to answer, most likely choosing her words carefully.

"I don't think it's anyone's fault if she's ill. No one can control how someone gets sick. In that way, it's not your fault. However, your decision about your involvement in the case is…interesting. Why don't you want to take her case?" House glanced at her, noticing that her eyes were dark and her lips were drawn into a tight line. She was worried about the situation with Cameron, or at least she seemed concerned. For some reason, he felt the need to tell her the truth.

"I'm…uncomfortable with the fact that she's ill. I'm letting Foreman and Chase handle the case, but I'm sure they're doing a poor job with it. I know I might be the only person to figure out the answer. I don't want her case because…" House's voice trailed away and Thirteen inclined her head toward him.

"Because you care about her? I get it; you're afraid to get close to her while working the case because you think that if you do, there's still the chance that she'll get worse. There's still the chance that her illness will overtake her and she'll be gone once you prove you're vulnerable. It's because you care about her that you don't want to get too close to her, especially with the threat of her…dying." House glanced at Thirteen with wonder in his eyes.

"How is it that you can read all that correctly while talking about this subject, but no one else can?" Thirteen turned her focus back to the window before responding. When she did, her voice was soft and it was her turn to become vulnerable.

"Well…that was the way I felt when I was diagnosed with Huntington's. I thought that if I got too close to someone after being diagnosed that it would take a worse turn and I would…go...at the point when I was most vulnerable. It could be taken away so quickly at the moment when things seem like they could be alright. You think that, maybe, if you shut the emotions out that the idea of death or loss will be easier to cope with. That's why I understand you now." House watched as water filled Thirteen's eyes while she spoke. She dabbed at the water in her eyes and laughed dryly before facing House again.

"What do you think I should do now? I'm interested to hear your opinion. Everyone else is hell-bent on making sure that I change my mind. So…what's your view on this whole subject?" Thirteen moved towards the couch that was near the center of the room they were standing in. House waited patiently for her answer, hoping this visit wasn't a waste of time or another moment of déjà vu. He had had enough of that in the last few days.

"I think…I think you should do what you believe is right, House. If you do what you think is right, I don't imagine that you could be wrong." House allowed these words to bounce around his head carefully. That was a brilliant view, at least in his opinion. It was one that he couldn't easily argue with. Thirteen smiled at him as she watched him considering this idea. Then, he nodded once more. Another urge instantly came over him, one that told him to tell Thirteen the truth about what was happening to him. In fact, this was the most that he had revealed to her about his thoughts since…ever. He had never felt open with her until now, and he wondered why he had chosen this moment to let her into his mind.

"Something else has been happening to me in the last few nights. Actually, it's more like something from "A Christmas Carol". It's…different." Thirteen threw him a weird look, one that suggested confusion. She cleared her throat and then glanced down at the floor, making quite sure that she averted House's eyes.

"Why don't you tell me about it? Maybe I could help you." House caught the sight of three children outside, playing and laughing in the white snow. It was a sight filled with glee and happiness, something only echoed with empty space inside House. He stared at the children for another moment, watching as one of the kids coughed harshly before flinging an icy snowball at a younger girl. Then, he shut his eyes and began explaining.

"I have strange dreams. I've been having them for a couple nights now." Thirteen landed herself on one side of the couch, tucking her legs underneath her. She placed one hand against her head and leaned back into the couch. Apparently she thought this was going to be a long story. Well, she was right about that part.

"House, everyone has strange dreams once in a while. That's not very different."

"True, but my dreams are completely realistic. I'm in the hospital at night and Cameron's there, laying in her hospital bed just as she is in reality. There was another Cameron there, too. Only, this one was more like me and acted hateful. Then, there were two spirits who showed up like the ones in that oh-so-meaningful Christmas story. In fact, a third one is coming tonight and they're supposedly showing me the 'error of my ways'. I am seeing this every night and it hasn't ended yet." House poured this out to Thirteen in almost one huge breath, not allowing her the chance to interrupt. Now, her eyes grew wide with worry as she rolled this around her head.

"House…how much Vicodin have you had today?" House glared at her for the first time since entering the apartment. Great. She was thinking that he had taken too many pills and that it was affecting his mind.

"I only had two pills, the amount I take each morning. I'm not overdosing, I'm not drunk, and I'm certainly not crazy. This is what's happening to me, except it's in my dreams. There are spirits that are trying to convince me that refusing Cameron's case is wrong. Stacy was the first spirit, and then it was Cuddy last night. I have no idea who the third one is, but I'm definitely looking forward to ending this. You don't believe me." This last sentence came out in a statement instead of a question. Thirteen paused and looked thoughtful for a long time after House's words had faded away. Then, she stood up and hastily walked over to face House directly.

"You're telling the truth, aren't you? This is what you're seeing? Maybe your dreams are telling you to consider the pros and cons of your choice. Maybe it's just your mind telling you to consider your options carefully. Then again, that Vicodin idea might still be a strong possibility." Thirteen showed a light smile, and House realized she was mocking him with this last statement.

"I have to figure this out. I literally feel my defenses breaking and I know time is running out. Just do me one favor. Don't tell anyone else about this whole thing with my dreams. At least not yet." Thirteen looked skeptical for a second before putting on a confident smile.

"Sure. I promise I won't tell anyone. As I said, just do what you think is right, House." She led House to the door of the apartment and opened it slowly for him. All he wanted to do was leave that place before he revealed anything else to her. Hell, she probably though he was insane right now. Oh, well. He started down the hallway, calling out an awkward 'thank-you' to Thirteen, and stopped short when his cell phone went off. He reluctantly answered and discovered that it was Foreman. This ought to be good.

"House, where are you? Cuddy's wondering why you're not at the hospital. Anyway, Cameron's having another problem." House recalled the early part of his dream last night where Cameron started bleeding heavily. He knew this would be the reason for Foreman's call.

"Let me guess. She's bleeding heavily through the hospital sheets and you don't know why." The other end of the line went silent and House knew he had been right. Foreman spoke up again, this time sounding as if he were in disbelief.

"How did you know that, House? Yes, she is bleeding extremely heavy and it's becoming difficult to stop it. Where are you?" House glanced back at Thirteen's apartment door and wondered if Foreman would believe the truth. Probably not.

"I just had a marvelous chat with your girlfriend. She was good company today." Foreman made a 'humph' sound that made it seem like he didn't believe House.

"Yeah, right. Remy's busy today; she wouldn't have time or patience to talk to you today." House rolled his eyes even though Foreman couldn't see him. Typical that Foreman refused to listen to House. Of course, he did take up the chance to lie to Foreman whenever he could.

"It's true. You could ask her yourself. As for her being busy, it seems you are so naïve that you can't tell when even she's lying to you. And I thought you were more decent at lying than Chase." Foreman decided to cut across House's words, simply out of annoyance. Another score for the doctor. That was two points in one day.

"House, this is serious. We are running out of time and options. Cameron still hasn't woken up; we think it's from loss of blood now. Plus, this proves that the theory I came up with is wrong. It means we're back to square one and Cameron is still dying. I hope you're happy now, House. You're getting exactly what you want." House hung up the phone, all the while hearing those cold words reverberate off the walls of his mind.


	8. House's Pain, Cameron's Heart

Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D. or the classic ideas of "A Christmas Carol" (which, by the way, happens to be my favorite Christmas story!). Someone owns these amazing ideas, but that person isn't me. So, I own absolutely nothing while writing up this story. 

A/N: I was extremely bored tonight so I wrote up another chapter for you guys! Thank you again for any and all reviews for my story! I hope all the readers are enjoying the story and remember to kindly review after reading, especially since it helps my story a lot. So…here is the next chapter and it's getting close!! Enjoy!

**Music that inspired this chapter: "All Around Me" by Flyleaf, "Are You Ready" by Three Days Grace, "It Ends Tonight" by All-American Rejects. (=**

Chapter Eight: House's Pain, Cameron's Heart

For the first time since being offered Cameron's case, House actually pondered over the answer to the complicated puzzle that was quickly threatening Cameron's fragile life. It was silent inside his apartment; all that could be heard was the slow ticking of the clock that rested on a shelf. House often glanced at this clock, even though it only served as a reminder of the events that might unfold that night. Even though he once thought that he anticipated the arrival of the third ghost—who would, no doubt, prove to be the spirit of the future—House was now feeling wary about the idea of dreaming about events that have not even happened yet. In truth, it was anything but normal. Shaking his head at the clock, House turned his thoughts back to the problem of Cameron.

What was wrong with her? There was already the cardiac arrest, throwing up blood, the coma…what else? House sighed as he suddenly remembered what Foreman had said to him over the phone. She was bleeding heavily—the way he had seen in it in his dreams—and that must mean that his dreams were showing him what was to happen to her. What would await him in her dream-like hospital room this time? Surely the machines would still be working to keep track of her heart rate and wouldn't be flat-lining just yet? It was something about the dreams that House now feared, though he refused to admit it even to himself. The fact that time was running out seemed to mock him to the point where he felt the urge to get rid of that calm, ticking clock on the shelf.

Heading for the bedroom, House caught a glimpse of the hands of the clock pointing near midnight. He ignored the time and limped towards the bathroom, which was close to his bedroom. He threw down his cane onto the floor and gripped the edges of the sink with both hands. A wave of agony soared through his leg and he had to grind his teeth to avoid gasping out in pain. His hands searched desperately for the Vicodin bottle, but he couldn't seem to find it anywhere on the sink. He was sure he had placed it here last time he swallowed two pills…or did he? House couldn't focus long enough to sort out his thoughts; all he was thinking about was the pain now filling every inch of his leg and seemingly moving upward.

House allowed his head to hang as he struggled to breathe in enough fresh air. His heart felt like it was going a thousand miles an hour and he found it difficult to gather any air. Another shot of pain went up his leg and this time he cried out loudly as he felt his head ready to explode. The whole room began spinning and turning black as he tried to keep from collapsing to the ground. For some reason, his mind started reeling with memories of the past scenes that the past spirit had showed him. There was Cameron in his office…more pain erupted in the lower part of his leg; it was so bad, House imagined it was being torn off. Then there was another memory of Cameron in the red dress that she had worn for a party…no, was that memory even in that handful of past scenes? House couldn't remember anything anymore as another shock traveled down his leg.

Finally, House's eyes closed tightly and the next thing he knew, he was laying on his side on the floor, his cane only a few feet away. It seemed as if House was unable to move a muscle; he couldn't make his hand reach out and grab the cane. Another memory entered his mind, this one more precious than the others. This memory featured Cameron kissing him in the office…the most agonizing pain yet exploded through House's leg as he witnessed the fringes of his vision become black and dark. Right before he fainted away, House could almost hear Cameron's soft, pleasant voice as though she were in the room with him.

_"I was wrong…you just couldn't love me…"_ Cameron's voice faded away and House fought to maintain consciousness. He only managed to mutter a few words before he succumbed to the darkness of the unconscious.

"I…I do…love you…" House felt his head fall against the hard bathroom floor and, still clutching a hand to his painful leg, slipped away into the mysterious darkness that had long awaited him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, House acknowledged the fact that, for the first time, he did not have an answer to the puzzle that had now surrounded him.

* * *

The blinding light filled his vision and House thought that the third spirit was already traveling with him without waiting for him to come back into consciousness. Then, House managed to open his eyes wider and instantly recognized the dimmed lights of the hospital hallway. The only problem was that he was still lying on the cold, hard floor and staring absently at the ceiling. House shut his eyes once more and, gathering a little strength, hoisted himself off the floor, forgetting about the fact that he had felt a shocking pain fill his leg only minutes ago. At least, House thought it was only minutes ago. House remembered falling to the bathroom floor and the sight of his cane inches away without his ability to grab hold of it. At the moment, he did not recall his last spoken words before going unconscious.

Now, House instinctively glanced towards the hospital room where he was sure that Cameron's body still lay limply on the bed. The last thing he wanted to do was enter that room and witness her body, minus a beating heart. Right at that minute, he realized it was one of the only things he was afraid of. The other thing was…Well, Thirteen's words had been enough to verify his thoughts on that subject. Still, he couldn't take his eyes away from that door, the one that he was hesitant to approach. What would happen if that other Cameron showed up again? What might she do to the Cameron he was so familiar with? He didn't want an answer to that question. Even so, House found his feet leading him to the room. No matter how hard he fought, the hospital room was getting closer and House's mind filled with possible images of what he might find.

Sliding open the door, House took the last few steps into the room and immediately stopped when he looked to the hospital bed. Cameron was still lying on the crisp, white sheets and—what was even more surprising to House—Cameron was not as limp as she had appeared in the last few days. Here, Cameron was lying on her side with a warm-looking blanket wrapped around her. Her face held a bit more color than it had before; now there was a hint of a rosy blush in them. True, her hair was still as unkempt as before, but it was currently fanned out on the pillow underneath her head, looking almost lovely. What really caught House's attention were her eyes. They were open and staring at him, but they were not by any means dead. No, her warm eyes had lit up excitedly at the sight of him and now she was gazing at him with new interest. Slowly, she released a hand from underneath the blanket and beckoned him forward.

"Cameron…you're not in a coma." She shook her head and a small smile played on her lips. She lifted her head and attempted to sit upright in the hospital bed. House took the seat next to her bedside and continued to study her in wonder. "So…does this mean I did—or will do—something right?" Cameron smiled wider and leaned her head near him.

"When do you ever do something seriously wrong?" House's heart began pounding just at the sound of her voice. It was so gentle, calm, and filled with wonder. Right then, it was the most wonderful sound that House could hear. It filled his mind and he eagerly held on to it, hoping it would never fade away. He faced away from her, trying to make it so Cameron wouldn't see the strange expression that was surely crawling across his face. She reached out one hand and lightly forced House's head to turn back to her.

"House, I understand if you don't want to take my case. I mean, I don't know your reasons, but whatever you think is right is good enough for me. I want you to know that," Cameron said in a faint whisper. She dropped her hand and covered her mouth as a deep, unbearable cough came from her throat. Cameron tilted her head back, eyes closed, and apparently tried to breathe in fresh air, just as House had done recently in his bathroom. Was that how Cameron had felt, with all that erupting pain and inability to breathe correctly? Then, another thought struck him.

"How did you know about my refusing your case?" Cameron rolled her eyes as if this information was obvious.

"Just because I am in a coma doesn't mean I can't hear what goes on around me. I heard you fighting with Chase. You didn't want my case, but I don't really know why. I thought you would have jumped at the chance of figuring out my puzzle." House dropped his head in order to avert his gaze from her own bright, imploring eyes.

"Cameron, I didn't want your case, but I did have my reasons. It's complicated and I don't think I could explain it to you without becoming…vulnerable." Cameron's eyes flashed with some kind of pity and sadness.

"House, I don't know if anyone's mentioned this to you, but it's alright to be a little vulnerable sometimes." She coughed harshly again, but House could only focus on her words. If only she knew.

"Well, not for me. I don't like being vulnerable, especially when I'd rather avoid that feeling. By the way, is this really you or just a shadow of the future?" Cameron looked pensive for a moment before inclining her head towards House.

"Tell you the truth, I'm not exactly sure. All I know is that I'm here and I'm talking to you. Maybe it's because we're dreaming at the same time. In reality, I'm probably still in a coma in the hospital. So, in a way, I'm dreaming and obviously you're dreaming. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here." House nodded slowly after hearing her theory. It could make sense, perhaps to another naïve person, but House often listened only to logic. This was just being hopeful about Cameron actually being here within an inch of him, alive and speaking clearly. House decided to change the subject.

"Are you, by any chance, feeling any agonizing pain in your body, particularly your right leg and up?" Cameron looked shocked about House's sudden question.

"Well, there was a lot of pain there previously. It was like an eruption or explosion in my leg and it was moving upward and…"

"And everything seemed to make your head spin and explode. The only thing you could focus on was that shattering pain in your leg and the struggle to catch enough air to make your heart stop racing so fast." Cameron gazed at House with amazement.

"How did you know that if you're not taking my case?" House paused before responding.

"It's because I felt it before passing out in my bathroom. So, in a way, I'm not exactly asleep, just unconscious." Cameron gasped for breath again and House held her body up as she managed to stay upright while placing a hand over her heart. He glanced at the monitors, but they showed that her heart rate was only a little above normal. That wasn't really something to cause a heart-attack or cardiac arrest. House settled back in his chair as Cameron turned again to face him.

"What's happening to you, House? I mean, what's happening here in your dream that's tearing down your defenses? Normally, you stick to your choices unless you're forced to admit that you're wrong." House leaned back in his chair and gazed at her. Then, he decided to tell her the truth. She stayed quiet and calm as she listened carefully to his explanation of the spirits, strange dreams, and the supposed arrival of the third spirit that would perhaps change his mind. After House explained everything to her, minus the reason for refusing her case, Cameron seemed to consider these facts in her mind. After a few minutes of silence, she glanced at House with a concerned expression.

"As I said, I hope you don't feel pressure about me. I may not understand your reasons, but I won't hate you if you choose any other option besides saving me." House felt a pang enter his heart and he had to turn away to avoid showing her his eyes, which were now threatening to overflow with water; House wouldn't admit that they were tears. He stood up to leave the room when Cameron grasped his arm tightly. He faced her once more and stared down at her curiously. Drawing in another breath, she asked him a question that he wasn't sure how to answer.

"House…I'm sure you wouldn't admit your reasons to me for fear of being vulnerable. Still…are you refusing my case because you…care about me? It's the only thing that makes sense about your choice. I need to know, House." He gazed down at her with longing before considering how best to respond. Oh, how he felt the desperate need to pour out the truth to her, it was slowly taking over his mind. Then again, House could lie to her for the sake of not becoming vulnerable, and God knew he was a skilled liar. She wouldn't have to know how weak for her he was, not at a dreary time like this. In the next instant, House made his decision.

"No. That's not even close to the reason. I'm sorry, Cameron." He pulled away from her grip and she collapsed stunned and incredibly hurt onto the hospital bed. He could feel the weight of her stare as he exited the hospital room, but he would not look back now. He had made his decision and he doubted that the third spirit would change his mind. He just couldn't bear showing vulnerable feelings to someone like her and then failing to save her in the next minute. It was something that House refused to think about as he stepped cautiously into the hallway and left the weak body of Cameron behind. When House turned to glance down the once empty hallway, he realized he was inches away from the third figure and this was one that made his heart almost freeze in shock.


	9. Welcome To The Future

Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D. or the classic ideas of "A Christmas Carol". In fact, I own absolutely nothing while writing up this story. Someone does, but that person isn't me. 

A/N: Time for the next chapter! Thank you again for all the reviews and I am hoping that the readers will keep reading my story to the end, which is not so far off now. Warning: some parts of this chapter might be sad. You have been warned. So, enjoy the next chapter and remember to leave a small review afterwards! (=

**Music that inspired this chapter: "Hey There Delilah" by Plain White T's, "When I'm Gone" by 3 Doors Down, and "The Time of My Life" by David Cook.**

Chapter Nine: Welcome To The Future

"Not you. Anyone but you. The way I see it, this isn't very fair." The third spirit, much to House's dismay, was Amber. It was somewhat ironic, mainly because she was already dead to begin with. Not only was House forced to deal with her in reality, but now she even haunted his dreams. In House's mind, it was plain torture. Amber's eyes quickly sparked up after hearing House's first words and the way her lips occasionally twitched suggested she was trying to hide a smile. She brushed back a long strand of blonde hair from her eyes. House couldn't help but recall the last time he had seen her alive. It was at least a year ago and the effect of her death had been rigorous for House, especially because it had caused a sure rift between the relationship he had with Wilson. The aftermath of having Amber gone was almost as bad as facing her when she was alive. Now, House forced those thoughts into the back of his mind as Amber opened her mouth to respond to House's recent exclamation.

"Fair is foul and foul is fair, right? I know how much you enjoy playing games, House. This is my game now." A victorious smile finally broke across her features and House failed in his attempt to avoid grimacing. Looking back towards the hospital room he had just hurriedly left, House wondered if it would have been better to stay there instead. As if reading his mind, Amber spoke up sharply.

"You can spend as much time in there as you want. Either way, we'll eventually get around to visiting the future, which I'll be sure to have a lot of fun with. I have all night, same as you." House reluctantly turned to her again. She was casually leaning against the wall, examining her delicate nails, as if to prove her point that she could wait all night in that position. As much as House hated to admit it, she was right. It must be only one in the morning and House had few places to escape to now that he was stuck in this twisted dream.

"Fine, you made your point. I know I can't hide from what's coming. Actually, I figured the third spirit would frighten me more than the previous two, even if the purpose was to somehow do me good. I also know that, despite your claim, time is precious to me." _Why am I even telling her these things now? It's not like she would listen to my words or find any meaning in them,_ thought House as he watched Amber's eyes grow curious. She straightened up immediately and came closer. That same wide smile was still pasted on her face and House had to restrain himself from showing a disgusted expression.

"You are absolutely right, House. Time is very precious to you, especially now when it is hastily running out. I wonder how one person can be so stubborn. If it were Wilson in that hospital bed and me in your place, I would risk everything I had to save him. And that's without giving it a second thought. You seem to have trouble deciding the right choice, something that doesn't entirely surprise me." House turned away from her, feeling a new wave of annoyance shoot up in his body.

"Here I thought the third spirit was supposed to be…I don't know…silent? That would be very helpful right about now." Amber rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Now you're referring to "A Christmas Carol"? That's a new step for you. If this were that kind of experience, then you should already know what's in the future. Unfortunately, you don't die and pay for all your sins in this story." House noticed that her tone now sounded filled with acid; it was cold and sharp, and House realized she wasn't only talking about a classic Christmas story.

"Awww…you're still angry about dying and now you're taking your anger out on me. Truth is it's such an obvious choice for someone like you. Are you going to help me or express hate towards me? Normally, I'd expect the latter option." The last of Amber's smile faded away and a new look filled her eyes, this one containing fury and irritation.

"I'm completely over that. That has nothing to do with what is happening tonight." House briefly smirked as he caught the lie in her words. _Everybody lies. It hasn't failed me yet._ Amber shook her head again and gripped House's arm tightly, making sure to add extensive pressure to the point where it stung. "You're in for a rough time, House. Let's hope for your sake that you're prepared." House glared at her once more before closing his eyes. He was becoming better at knowing when to expect the flash of light that so often blinded him. In his head, he counted to a full minute before opening his eyes again. Amber released his arm immediately, as though it had harshly burned her. House rubbed the spot where her nails had dug into his skin.

"Thanks…CB." Amber snapped her head in his direction and gave him one of her coldest looks, one that House simply shook off without care. Amber crossed her arms and refused to look at House any longer, apparently annoyed by House's ignorance. Oh well, that made it all the easier for House now. House lifted his gaze and found that, once again, they were standing in his office. This time, they had landed right next to the long table that was placed near the door of the adjoined room in his office, the whiteboard blank and absent of any notes. House wondered if Chase and Foreman had finished the case after all. He was about to ask Amber about this when Foreman tiredly walked into the room, Chase following closely behind him. Neither of them had their scrubs on and looked as if they had just rolled out of bed. House remembered when Cuddy traveled with him to witness the changes in Chase during the present. Looking at Chase now, House noticed that he looked even worse.

Chase's face was as pale as Cameron's had been while lying in the hospital bed. There was little color in his face and there were deep, dark shadows under his eyes. It looked as if he hadn't slept well in weeks. He collapsed into one of the chairs, still facing House and Amber, and placed his head in one hand. He let out a ragged breath and appeared as though all his energy had suddenly left him. House could never recall Chase ever looking this bad, no matter what situation he was facing. He decided to turn his focus to Foreman instead.

He wasn't that much better than Chase. Foreman had slight shadows under his eyes as well, though they weren't as noticeable as Chase's. He looked increasingly worn out and moved slower than he usually did. He was avoiding Chase's eyes, which meant that it was becoming difficult for them to communicate during this scene. No one obviously knew what to say to the other. Foreman leaned against the white board and played with one of the markers. His eyes looked far away, like he was focused on something else at the moment. House gave a suspicious look to Amber, but she was still refusing to glance at him. Finally, Chase picked his head up and spoke up in a low, unfamiliar voice.

"_What do you imagine is going to happen now? It's only the two of us. I mean, Cameron…"_ Chase began sniffling and House got the impression that he was trying to hide his real emotions from Foreman. Chase shut his eyes and it appeared hard for him to continue. Foreman chose to take up where he had left off.

"_I already tried reaching House. Cuddy says he's not answering his phone, but then again she's still angry at him for the way he yelled at her the other night. God knows he's probably still grieving and facing the reality of his decision. Cuddy even mentioned that she thought his leg would begin hurting him worse than ever now. Well, I say he deserves it, for Cameron's sake. I mean, how the hell could he do that to her?" _House felt confusion grow inside his mind. This must be only a few days after the situation with Cuddy. House already had a feeling about the details of his decision, and what he assumed did not seem right. Amber leaned over to him.

"I'm sure even someone like you can fill in the details, House." Chase opened his eyes again and stood up. He paced around the area where he had been sitting and then faced Foreman head on.

"_I'm not very surprised. He was always stubborn and you know as well as I do that he often took Cameron for granted. If anything, I'm glad that reality is now hitting him. Cameron didn't deserve this at all. What's worse, it's because of House that she's…" _Chase couldn't seem to finish the sentence and Foreman looked as though he didn't want to. Understanding passed over Foreman's face and he hung his head while still leaning against the white board. House turned to Amber and was determined on getting her to talk.

"She's what? Because of me, she's…what? Don't tell me the answer is that obvious, that it is what I fear it is." Amber sighed and looked at House sternly. Surprisingly, her voice held a hint of sympathy, something that was had been so uncommon in Amber.

"Not every answer in the world has to be complicated, House. Truth be told, it is often the simplistic answers that scare us the most. You would do good to learn that, House. It might clear up a few things." She pointed again to the scene and House watched as Chase approached the window.

"_I've been to Cuddy's office, too. She told me she was considering the idea of firing House. He no longer comes in to the hospital or does his job. He hasn't done it since Cameron. He won't talk to anyone or tell us what's going on in his head. What the hell was going on in his head when he was determined to leave Cameron to her somewhat inevitable fate? Besides, Cuddy also stated that she wouldn't want to work with doctors that spell death for their co-workers."_ Foreman nodded in agreement.

"_You know, the only good thing about what happened to Cameron is that she never had to know how much House detested saving her. I mean, she never even woke up."_ Amber tangled her arm in House's, even though House was now reeling with this information. _Cameron had never woken up? But that means she's—_

House's thoughts were cut off by the brilliant white light that covered every surface and caused the depressing scene to melt away. An uneasy feeling erupted in House's stomach as the travel took longer than three minutes. It was unusual; the traveling often didn't take this long and House wondered how far in the future they were going. They eventually landed and House found that his head was spinning unpleasantly. When he finally felt normal, he fiercely glared at Amber, who had a secretive smile playing on her face.

"What was that about?" Amber half-turned and, still wearing that smile, curtly responded to House.

"That was further payback for the whole CB thing. I thought you got over that little nickname?" House gave her an incredulous look as she said that last sentence. For the first time, he realized they were in the center of Thirteen's apartment. It had been only yesterday that House talked with Thirteen in this room. So, what were they doing here in the future? House spotted Thirteen and Foreman on the couch, and he moved forward to get a better glimpse of them. Foreman was holding one of Thirteen's hands and Thirteen was looking incredibly solemn. What did she have to be sad about, unless she was feeling sympathetic for Cameron? House examined Thirteen as she slowly picked up her head and stared at Foreman, who—like he had done with Chase—was avoiding her gaze.

"_I probably should have told you about House's dreams earlier. I thought they were strange and it sounded as if they were telling him to save Cameron. I have to admit, after hearing about his dreams, I'm surprised that he didn't change."_ House neared Thirteen and felt a new sensation of anger fill him.

"You told him about my dreams? I thought you agreed to keep this quiet. Thank you so much, Thirteen." Amber strode over to House and dragged him back.

"They can't hear you. Remember? I was pretty sure Stacy explained this to you before." House ignored her and continued observing the pair on the couch. It appeared as if Foreman was ready to speak.

"_It's like he says. 'People don't change.' The same goes for him. Plus, you obviously felt bad for him."_ Thirteen whipped her head around to look Foreman directly in the eyes.

"_Of course I felt bad for him. He told me how he felt about Cameron and I was so sure that he was considering taking her case instead of refusing it again. I was so sure he was ready to save her. Anyway, it doesn't matter now. When are you leaving?"_ House tilted his head questioningly at Amber, but she only shook her head and pointed insistently towards Foreman.

"_I'm leaving tomorrow. I'm sorry, Remy. Besides, Chase is leaving today and you know there's little left here now. I certainly don't want to be working at that hospital again. Not now after Cameron." _Thirteen showed an upset expression and anger shined in her usually bright eyes. Clearly, there were problems with these two and now the problems were becoming permanent.

"_Yeah, there's little left here. There's just me."_ Foreman shook his head as if he had heard this before and it was becoming an old subject. He released Thirteen's hand and got to his feet. It looked like he was getting ready to leave, except this time for good.

"_Remy, you know I don't want it to be this way. If I could, I would stay with you. You're here, but there's nothing else for me. I wish you could understand that." _House walked nearer Thirteen and watched as her expression became dark.

"_That's just it. You wouldn't stay with me. That's why it's becoming so difficult for us to work together at all. You're thinking more about everything else besides me, especially when it comes to your work. It'd make me feel so much better if you just leave quietly."_ Foreman shrugged and headed for the door. He paused once to turn back to Thirteen.

"_I'm sorry. I'm sorry it couldn't be different between us, Remy."_ With that, Foreman left the apartment forever. The minute he was gone, Thirteen's head sunk into her hands and a few muffled sobs could be heard. House actually felt sorry for her, especially since this whole situation was his fault. Amber lightly touched his shoulder, letting him know it was time to go. He gathered his thoughts together and gazed at Amber.

"Where to now?" Amber inclined her head at House and something that looked like pity entered her eyes. House still didn't trust her, but he felt satisfied that she wasn't acting like her usual uncaring self. She grabbed his hand and didn't dare look in his eyes as the next statement caught House off guard.

"Next, we're going to see Cameron. Time for the hard part, House. Get ready." House closed his eyes as that light filled the room and could almost feel his heart slowing as he imagined 'seeing' Cameron again, except this time in the future.


	10. Goodbye, Cameron

Disclaimer: It's no surprise that I, like many in this world, do not own the brilliance of House M.D. I wish I did, but I absolutely don't. In fact, I own nothing while writing this fanfic. 

A/N: Almost to the end of the story, and all those reviews are working wonders on my story! Of course, I have to thank every reader who has reviewed and now here is the next chapter! Enjoy! This one, like the previous one, might be sad. Just a friendly warning. (= 

Chapter Ten: Goodbye, Cameron

There were three things that House noticed first about his new whereabouts. First, it was silent, almost like a tomb. Actually, you could most likely drop a pin and it would be heard clearly, if not for the blanket of snow that covered everything in sight. Second, House was aware that one of the only colors before him was white. There was white everywhere; it was on the ground, the sky was a pale, airy shade, and even Amber's delicate skin now matched the area around her, as if she were some kind of snow angel that was created especially for this scene. The final thing that House took into his mind, one that wasn't exactly comforting, was that it was cold. Not just cold, either. It was down-right freezing outside and the chill of the bitter wind whipped through House's body and seemed to even make his bones frozen and brittle. In truth, House didn't like this place one bit. Looking around, he also discovered that 'this place' was not what he imagined it to be.

At first, House thought Amber had brought them to a deserted meadow of some sort, which made little sense to House. Then, his eyes focused on other details around him and the idea became clearer. A variety of marble stones were scattered all over the place and they were of completely different shapes and sizes. Some were huge while others were unbearably small; some were shaped like angels or crosses while others were simple square-like stones, all having the look of age upon them. Almost every one was worn down to the point where you couldn't even make out the name engraved in the stone. House, taking in all these details, realized that Amber had taken him to a cemetery.

House looked around him and then turned cautiously towards Amber, knowing that tons of questions were written in his eyes. She had her head bowed, as if she were in prayer, and her blonde hair cascaded over her features. Once she picked up her head, she pointed to a headstone that was separated from the others in the cemetery. House gave Amber another guarded look before nearing the stone. Unlike the others, this one appeared to be in more recent condition, and only a covering of light frost enabled House from reading the name on the stone. He slowly bent down to the stone and stared at it, as if something would suddenly happen in any given moment. A twisting sensation began in his stomach and it was a kind of gut feeling that told him the answers to his questions.

"This is Cameron, isn't it? It's been implied that she's…you know. Is this Cameron?" No answer came to House and he turned his head to find Amber still holding her head loose and looking as if she were deep in thought, unable to hear House's question. House grumbled about her ignorance and then faced the cold stone once again. He reached out an unwilling hand to the stone, felt that it was icy like death itself, and managed to swipe away most of the frost. His gut feeling had been correct, as it often was. Beneath the frost, there was the name that House knew so well. '**Alison Cameron**' was the only title that existed on the stone, and it wracked House's mind. He traced his fingers over the etched letters, knowing that this might be one of the last times he could say her name without losing a bit of his sanity.

"Cameron. Cameron, Cameron," House whispered her name almost as if it was a chant that would give him comfort. And icy wetness began under his eyes and it took him a moment to realize that there were tears coming to his eyes at the thought of Cameron slipping through his fingers easily. His hand remained on the stone a minute longer before he stood up to face Amber directly. Now, she was looking at him with interest, as though his chanting had awoken her from her thoughts.

"I never wanted this to happen. I mean, I knew it was a possibility. With every patient it's a possibility. For her…it seemed unlikely. You brought me here to show me Cameron's fate. Okay, I got it. I don't want this and if this does happen, the only thing I'll feel is guilt. There, happy?" Amber shook her head slightly and House got the impression she was amused by his words. Refusing to glance back at the headstone, House approached Amber, determined to get some reaction out of her.

"Before this, I couldn't get you to stop talking and mocking me for a minute. Now, you're deciding to act silent? Tell me one thing. If this is what's going to happen to Cameron, then what will become of me? You never mentioned anything about the future House at all. So, what's my fate?" Amber smiled ruefully before looking behind him. House reluctantly turned and his body suddenly froze with shock and confusion. What was once a delicate headstone for Cameron was now a daunting grave for himself. Now, the only name scrawled across the stone was that of '**Gregory House**'. He stepped back a bit, not fully understanding the meaning of this scene. He could feel Amber come closer to him and her hands on his shoulders. Her voice, once chipper and sophisticated, was now cold and menacing.

"Your fate, House? It's quite simple. After Cameron's poor, unfortunate death, you were reeling with guilt. Then, when you could stand life no longer, you died alone with no one to feel guilt for a stubborn, heartless person like you." At that instant, Amber pushed House forward, causing him to lose his balance next to the deep, open grave. The grave seemed to stretch on for miles and House attempted to regain his footing just as he toppled over the side of the grave. Amber's high-pitched, cruel laughter filled his ears as he fell into the darkness of the grave. The whiteness of the cemetery vanished and all he could see now was black. He fell for what seemed like years and the blackness felt like it was slowly suffocating him. There was so much unwanted pressure that it stopped him from giving out a scream as he fell. In the next moment, he could see something rushing up at him. It only took him a minute to realize that it was a lonely casket that was suddenly opening wide to welcome him…

* * *

"No! Not me! No!!" House twisted around and tossed about until he finally crashed against a hard surface. He stayed still for a moment, hoping any haunting images or spirits would leave him alone. Then, he cautiously picked up his head and looked around. In an unusual way, it took him a few minutes to discover that he was back in his bedroom and that he was now alive in reality. There was no cemetery, no headstones, and most certainly no Amber or any other spirits. He saw that his body was tangled in sheets and that he had fallen out of bed onto the hard floor. He released a sigh of relief and lay there on the floor for a full minute, taking in the feeling of being alive and not buried in a lonely casket. Then, he lifted his head and got to his feet carefully. It had been a crazy dream, one that was now over. Still, it had affected House in more ways than one. Standing there in his empty apartment and breathing easily, he began thinking intently about Cameron and the condition she was in. He even thought about the conversation he had with her in his dream. Now, he almost regretted not telling her the truth. Hell, he did regret it. Grabbing up his cane and taking one more deep breath, House rushed out of the apartment and headed for the hospital. It was time to make a few changes.


	11. Saving Cameron

Disclaimer: I do not own the ideas of House M.D. Actually, I own nothing while writing this story. 

A/N: I am glad that so many people are taking the time to read this story and now it's getting good. I hope those readers keep going until the end and remember to leave a small review afterwards. Those reviews always help my story to continue. (= Enjoy!

Chapter Eleven: Saving Cameron 

House paced around his office, oblivious to the fact that he was the only person in it at the moment. He didn't bother to wonder where Foreman and Chase were; they were probably still messing up Cameron's case. House dropped his cane on the table in front of him and examined the white board. The list of Cameron's symptoms was there along with another list of possible diagnoses for her. Taking one look at this second list, House ruled out the majority of the possibilities. He shook his head and realized that Foreman and Chase haven't gone very far on Cameron's case, despite the fact that it had been three days. House turned away from the board and kept thinking. He didn't notice the sound of the office door opening and footsteps approaching him.

"House?" He spun around to find Foreman staring back at him with confusion written clearly on his face. House avoided his eyes as he returned to studying the white board. Foreman stepped closer to the board and leaned against it. It was at least another couple minutes before Foreman spoke.

"The only reason you would be here looking at these symptoms is if your curiosity has finally gotten the best of you. So, about Cameron…"

"I already got confirmation from Cuddy to take over her case. I'm helping her. Isn't that what you all wanted in the first place?" Foreman put on a look that lacked surprise and sighed deeply. He moved away from the board and responded quietly.

"I'm glad you're at least seeing reason. What changed your mind?" House didn't have an answer for Foreman. He wasn't ready to tell anyone else the truth, even though he knew Thirteen would probably spill the beans soon, according to the dream. No, he wouldn't tell anyone yet, especially Foreman. Instead, he faced Foreman head on and simply lied.

"You know what? You're right; guess it's just my curiosity. You know how much these complicated puzzles amuse me for some time. I guess Cameron is just another puzzle." Foreman suddenly headed for the door, apparently finished with this conversation. Before he could reach the door, House called back to him. "Foreman, why don't you do yourself a favor and stay with Thirteen? It'd make more sense than leaving her without any future warning." Foreman hesitated, and then looked back at House. He nodded his head once and continued hastily out the door.

House picked up Cameron's case file again and glanced at a few pages. Thoughts bounced around House's head as he struggled to find an acceptable answer. That's just what it had to be; it had to make sense, unlike all the other possibilities on the white board. How the hell could Wilson suggest cancer anyway? An idea instantly hit House and he rushed out the door. He made the short trip to Wilson's office and barged in without knocking first. Wilson didn't even have to look up to know it was House standing in his doorway.

"I heard you took Cameron's case. I'm interested to know the reason. By the way, what if I was just talking with a patient and you came barging in like that?" House appeared thoughtful for a minute before answering.

"Well, I would still attempt to start this conversation with you. Plus, I doubt your patient would die during that session, so it's not that big a deal." Wilson gave House an incredulous look before standing up from his desk. House strode over to the window and Wilson followed. "I think I'm taking Cameron's case because….because I somewhat care." Wilson's expression changed to one of disbelief.

"Wow. That's a huge step, even for you. I thought you were trying for Cuddy, not Cameron. So, you're taking her case because you care about her. Hmmm." House tossed Wilson an irritated look.

"That's all you have to offer me? 'Hmmm'? Explain to me why you thought it was cancer?" Wilson stared out the window and then looked down at the floor.

"It was just a simple explanation for what she could have. After a few tests, I managed to rule it out. Why? What do you think she has?" House shook his head slowly, lost in thought. What _did _Cameron have? It was a question that—for the most part—had no answer. House ran over her symptoms again. She had an episode of cardiac arrest; that one came first. Then, it was the heavy bleeding and pain between her stomach and abdomen. What else was there to go on? House figured she could have landed herself into a coma due to loss of blood or some kind of trauma. What else, what else? House couldn't come up with an answer; none of the symptoms fit perfectly together. Wilson's voice broke through House's thoughts.

"Me, I have no idea what Cameron has. With all that blood I would have imagined it had something to do with a bad period at first, but now I'm not sure what the hell it is. It doesn't make sense." House could only nod as he took in Wilson's words. Then, the pieces began to click. The heavy bleeding, the pain, the fainting…All the symptoms began to form a clear picture. House slowly smiled as he remained focused on a theory that was forming in his head. Wilson was right; it didn't make sense while thinking about a bad period unless…

"Let me guess. Something I just said gave you an idea and now you're going to rush out of here without saying another word." House turned and, with great speed, did just that. He faintly heard Wilson mutter a 'goodbye' before he began storming down the hallway and towards Cameron's hospital room. He finally figured out what was wrong with her.

* * *

"Stop with the treatment. God, are you trying to screw up her case?" Chase immediately pulled away from Cameron's IV and stared at House as though he were insane. He resulted in glaring at him before sharply answering.

"I'm only giving her morphine for the pain she's reacting to. Funny, I thought you didn't care about Cameron's case at all." Chase's expression changed to one of suspicion as House neared her bedside. Chase leaned closer to Cameron's body, almost protectively. House ignored Chase and studied Cameron.

"I'm sure you'll be much more grateful when I tell you that I've figured out what's wrong with her. Let's see…heavy bleeding, coma, cardiac arrest, and incredible pain near her stomach." Chase straightened up and looked ready to aim knives at House with his eyes.

"Those are her symptoms, House. What's the answer?" Chase asked in a stern voice. House gazed at him and rolled his eyes as though Chase should have been the one to figure this out a while ago. Then, using a dramatic voice, House handed Chase the answer.

"Adenomyosis." Chase's expression shifted to one of complete confusion and lack of understanding correctly. House had to hold back from laughing cruelly at Chase's reaction.

"What?" House felt it almost irresistible to mock Chase. In fact, he really couldn't resist taking the bait for this one.

"You mean you don't know? And I do? What kind of doctor are you? Adenomyosis is a simple diagnosis that totally fits Cameron's case. I can't believe you didn't figure this one out, sarcasm intended. In basic terms, she has an infected uterus and damage to that uterus has caused her to bleed heavily. Usually, it starts with abnormal menstruation, so I wouldn't be surprised if she's been bleeding heavily every month. The intolerable pain is a result from the abnormal bleeding and infection in the uterus. I'm guessing she's in a coma as a result of that. See? Simple." Chase offered House a look of wonder as he turned to glance down at Cameron.

"Will she be alright, House?" Chase gazed coldly back up at House as he waited for his answer. It was an answer that could either comfort him or hurt him.

"She'll be fine. Except for the fact that she'll have to go into surgery soon to fix her infected uterus. Besides that, she'll live." House took one more glance at Chase, focused for a mere second on Cameron's fragile body, and then left the hospital room, making sure to alert the other doctors that Cameron would need surgery as soon as possible.

* * *

"I am shocked, concerned, and completely satisfied with your choice, House." Cuddy was standing awkwardly behind her desk and speaking to House carefully. House was roaming around her office, not wanting to look at Cuddy directly. He lingered over a few of her books on a single bookshelf before curtly responding.

"Right, I managed to do her a kind favor and now the case is done." Cuddy gave him a sympathetic look, one that he chose to ignore. He didn't want her sympathy or kindness, nor did he really need her approval. Still, she moved around her desk and stepped towards him until she was almost next to him. He moved away from the bookshelf and stopped near the other side of the room.

"House, don't you get it? You did do something good for Cameron. I'm glad that you did. The surgery went well, by the way. Maybe you should talk to her; she's actually awake and speaking normally. Chase never leaves her side, either." House refused to glance at Cuddy. He had heard from Foreman that the surgery had gone over well and that Cameron had miraculously awoken from her coma shortly afterwards. It really was nice to know she was back, but he still didn't feel ready to face her. What if that really was her in the dream? What would she say to him if he confronted her? Cuddy moved closer to him and he felt the need to back away again.

"I already know about Cameron's surgery and her awakening. I am glad that she's awake. I just don't want to talk to her just yet. Her case was just another puzzle for me to figure out." Cuddy stopped beside him and stared at him with the intent of making him look at her. Stubborn as he was, he ignored her and continued to keep the main part of his thoughts to himself. When House didn't speak, Cuddy brought up another subject that House wanted to run away from.

"What happened to you, House? What was it that changed your mind, anyway? It had to be something dramatic, especially since you were hell-bent on staying away from Cameron. So, what was it?" Like with Foreman, House wasn't sure whether the truth was good for her. Maybe the truth should be hidden only inside House and shouldn't be revealed to anyone else. Still, House felt the urge to give her something more than lies. He finally faced her and took in a breath before explaining.

"Cameron changed my mind." With those few words, House started for the door and only paused when Cuddy spoke again.

"She would be grateful to you, House. I mean, you saved her life. You should at least see her and accept the level of her gratitude, if nothing else. Though, I'm sure she holds more meaning to you than anyone could measure." House had his hand on the doorknob when she said this. Now, he turned back just once to give her a curious look. A small, secretive smile was playing on her lips as if she knew more than she was letting on. House could only wonder about the second message that lay beneath her words as he exited the office and—forgetting Cuddy's advice—headed for his empty office where, for once, Cameron would not be waiting. The only comfort that was offered to him was from the realization that the dream was finally over.


	12. House and Cameron

Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D. or any of its amazing ideas (sadly!!). In truth, I own nothing while writing this story. 

A/N: Once again, thank you for any reviews that the readers have left. They always help to keep my story going. For those of you who are reading my story, I hope you keep going and remember to review afterwards. I think I am going to close up this story soon, and I have tons of other stories to update so check those out, too! In fact, I think I will make this the last chapter. So, I hope you liked this story and leave a small review for me (you know, I do love reading about the thoughts and comments of other readers!) Enjoy the last chapter!! (= 

Additional Note: Sorry for this chapter being so short! Still, I hope you all enjoy it. 

**Music that inspired this chapter: "Two Is Better Than One" by Boys Like Girls/ Taylor Swift, and "As The World Falls Down" by David Bowie. **

Chapter Twelve: House and Cameron

By the end of the week, Cameron was able to fully recover and escape her hospital bed. Three days after waking up from her coma, she made her way to House's office. The halls were nearly empty since it was getting late and many of the rooms were now plagued by shadows. Cameron could see a faint light coming from House's office, and she knew he would be there, going over in his mind the events of her case. She was aware that there was no sound in the hallway as she neared his office; her light footsteps were the only slight sound that could be heard. She briefly wondered what she would find him doing, but she shook the thought off as she quietly entered the room.

It took her a minute to adjust her eyes to the level of darkness in the room. House was standing close to the window with his back to her. She stalled for a moment, trying to imagine what she wanted to say to him. When she began approaching his desk, he half turned and saw that it was her standing behind him. Cameron noticed that there was some kind of sympathy in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by an unreadable expression. Turning back to the window, House started the predictably awkward conversation.

"So…I'm just going to take a guess and say that you're here to thank me for saving your life. You're welcome." House didn't turn around, only continued staring out at the blizzard outside that was becoming stronger with every second. Cameron dropped her eyes to the floor, not knowing what to say to him. She had had a lot of awkward moments with House, but this one was hastily reaching the top of the list. Finally, she focused her gaze on the pile of papers on his desk and responded softly. To her disliking, she discovered that her voice was still a bit scratchy from lack of use over the past week.

"Well, that's one reason. I am grateful that you helped me, House. Somehow, I knew you would. Foreman's staying with Thirteen, by the way. He told me you had something to do with it." House reluctantly faced Cameron and moved towards the desk. His gaze, like Cameron's, lingered on the messy stack of papers on his desk before landing on Cameron. He gripped his cane even harder as he attempted to come up with a reasonable response to that statement.

"Well, I might have had something to do with it. What's your other reason for coming here?" Cameron advanced towards the desk until she was standing beside House. This was the hardest part about his conversation; she wasn't sure what House would say or how he would react. If anything, he'd probably lie to her like he usually did. She cleared her throat once and started, though she knew her voice would still sound weak and disharmonious.

"House, I've been thinking a lot since I woke from the coma. I'm leaving Chase for a while. Of course, he isn't too happy about my decision. He thinks I'm leaving him for you." House gave her a quizzical look and new suspicion reached his eyes. Cameron kept her eyes focused on his, no matter how much she wanted to look away.

"Are you? I mean, is that the reason you're leaving him?" House began turning his cane in one of his free hands, and Cameron fought against becoming distracted. Instead of answering House's question, she responded with an opposite question.

"House, do you have feelings for me? Do you like me?" House stared at her for at least a minute before he stopped the spinning cane in his hand. He seemed to consider his words carefully and Cameron almost wished he would stop holding back on her so much.

"I guess my reason for refusing your case isn't as complicated as I thought it would be. In answer to your question, yes. I've been trying to convince myself that it wasn't the truth, but it happens to be the main reason why I stayed away from your case. I thought that if I agreed to take your case, it would be more than solving a puzzle and you…" House's words trailed off and Cameron finished for him.

"You thought I'd reject you or wouldn't accept that from you?" Cameron stepped closer to him until she was only inches away. House gazed down at her as she reached towards him. It was almost like déjà vu to House; he recalled the past scene in which he and Cameron had kissed. Now, it seemed like history would repeat itself once more, except for the fact that, this time, House didn't want to pull away from her. Cameron finally closed the space between them and it was like a great explosion. Neither one wanted to move away from the other as the rest of the world seemed to slip away. Cameron and House stayed that way for a while, able to feel that everything would be alright, and this sudden change was a good one. Outside, the snow just kept falling quietly on this one silent December night.


End file.
